


we can be like two digits, cause ain't no one equivalent to you

by zialless



Series: portland [1]
Category: One Direction (Band), Zayn Malik (Musician)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fraternity, Enemies to Friends, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Fluff and Smut, Fraternities & Sororities, Hate to Love, House Rivalry, I love imaan hamaan so i'm putting her in!, M/M, Rivalry, contact names change overtime..., i had gigi in but i hate her and i was gna put bella but i hate her too! so..., just to show progression in the relationship.....
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-22
Updated: 2017-05-11
Packaged: 2018-05-08 07:04:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 156,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5488112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zialless/pseuds/zialless
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p><br/>rho and their high and mighty posh lifestyle makes kappa sick, but they're not one to talk—especially niall who zayn loathes the most. everyone has their secrets which niall figures out while he brags about his 4.1 gpa.<br/></p>
  <hr/>
  <p>this is where rho and kappa are rival houses, zayn and niall end up as midterm partners, and harry's ready to fight everyone who stands in his way.</p>
</div>
            </blockquote>





	1. power

**Author's Note:**

> hiiii. this is my fraternity fic. 
> 
> yeah... who writes these things in 2k15? but see... i had this since 2013/2014 so like im not just gonna let this die bc i really like the plot of having two houses in a rivalry. my writing style might be different to what i have now bc ive taken this fic from like 2013. idk how long this'll be. i hope 10 chapters, roughly 10k each chapter. im not finished bc ive been stuck. tbh, im not even really feeling this first chapter and i wanted to change it up but i decided not to bc ive gotten quite lazy, and there are like 3-5 chapters that ive combined together to make this one (yeah there were initially 25+ chapters and i was like nahhhhh)
> 
> no beta... roughly edited. if there's first person, that's my fault. i initially started this as a first person fic but i turned it into third person. nothing is real.... obviously lol.
> 
> title comes from numbers by hoodie allen.

Zayn loves this class! Of course; he took it for two terms, ecstatic about the idea of learning humans; how they think, how they perceive things in their own thoughts, why they do it all. He still had a lot to learn and that’s why he's here; to absorb it all. Yet sitting through this lecture, the only thoughts his mind was able to make up was whether he'd end his life now or twenty minutes from now, when the professor’s still doing his lecture on Sociology. The class goes back and forth—Psychology to Sociology to Anthropology, back to Sociology then Psychology. The professor decided to give an introduction, knowing most of the students don’t know much about the three, but he decided to spend the beginning of the semester teaching the difference between all of them. Right now, it's Sociology.

And Zayn could not take it all; the lecture was showing him the bright light after death. He can feel the heat of the light searing on him, making him feel the contrast of the light with his dying, cold body. His pen and paper wasn’t easing the pain his mind was going through. Neither did his phone, texting his friend what’s for dinner, having to wait in between for 10-minutes for his response. He's carefully made sure his phone is silent, avoiding the feeling of mortification when everyone’s eyes are set on him if his phone blares in the middle of the lecture.

“Hey!” Zayn hisses quietly. He feels this brick drop on top of his head all so sudden; making its way down right beside his feet. He's already dying and there's falling bricks—the world really hates him. "Butterfingers..." He blurts like a curse.

“Could you get that?” That familiar voice with that slurring accent asked with a sense of eager in his tone. Eager but collected.

Zayn's nice enough to reach down and grab the lad’s phone, but not as nice when his eyes fixate one the idiot’s text to the controller emoji person as he laughs. Zayn's got growing concerns for this lad.

**Niall:** _Study date without the first part. 7 at Heisman._

"Wow," Zayn couldn't help but laugh under his breath. He reaches over his head to pass the student's phone back. "Knowing the amount of girls you sleep with a month, I would've thought your approach would be better. But seeing your yard today, I should've avoided making expectations." The laughing stops when the phone dropped on Zayn's head again, obviously intentional. It's only been a few seconds from the first drop on his head that he gets a next drop on his head. Time must be going by fast, his time is coming real quickly now.

Niall is one of the roughest, dirtiest, and loudest fraternity representative he's ever met. His ash blond hair is always sticking out like he's just woken up, his eyes are always following the bounces of women's tits and men's dicks, and he curses far too much. Zayn's never found a liking to him, and to have a three hour class with the belligerent fool who likes to set dates up with everyone he talks to, it isn't a simple walk in the park with this transfer student who happened to be on the same boat he was when first year came by.

He read his phone again:

**Niall:** _Thick Prat_

"Ah, that's how you feel..." Zayn's thumb hovers over the 'Send' option. "So you wouldn't mind if I—" He had the nerve to do it. Niall can't blame Zayn for his motive, since he set himself up for the loss.

"Dick." Niall takes back his phone and leans to the end of the desk. Zayn can feel him ready to whisper something to him down below. And he's ready to hear all what Niall has to say—not that any of what he has to say, he hasn't heard before.

This was the routine every day since the year started when he sat where he's exactly sitting now, when Niall entered the doors with a loud laugh. Zayn knew him before this class—tried avoiding him ever since. He hasn't done a good job at it. He could remember mouthing several times to himself _"please don't sit here, please don't"_ when Niall was making his way up the steps. He can recollect the feeling of blood rushing, him trying to subtly watch Niall by keeping his sight on my phone, watching Niall from the corner of his eyes. And Zayn remembered that he was able to let the 20-second held breath out as Niall jogged past the row. But fuck, his eyes widened then squinted in anger right after a few seconds passed, and felt a presence behind him, made their selves comfortable.

"I know you and me," Niall let out a deep breath. "Have our differences but I'm willing to look past it, knowing butterflies are fluttering in your stomach when ya see me. We're both vice presidents for a reason and I can't help, but feel like you're lying to me, hiding your sexual craving for me. Now, vice presidents don't lie, do they?"

Ha! Zayn's tongue pressed on the gums and teeth at the left side of his mouth, holding in his laughter. This was new. "Gee, I'll keep in mind your amazing offer. I appreciate it really. Just tell me when your results come in for Chlamydia, yeah?"

He can feel Niall glaring down at him while he laughs to himself at his witty remark. Zayn might be funny but Niall didn't quite entirely see that. "Fucking twat, did you blow Harry to get V.P? Surely positive you've swallowed him down to be where you are."

"Yeah I blew Harry, alright." Zayn shook his head for a quick second, squinting to himself at the stupid and humorous come-back. What's in this lad's mind? Zayn thought. It's like he never thinks.

"But that's all I've done y'know?" Zayn continues. He shouldn't push it. He's already accomplished by winning this daily banter. Except, he believes it's right for him to become an over-achiever. "I mean it's nothing compared to what I know you guys do."

Niall tilts his head, a wry smirk taking over. "You're amusing, keep going."

"You Kappas’ earn your money from somewhere, yeah? We earn ours too, that's nothing to think about. But, you guys are fairly lazy, sleeping around—and that's it! That's how you earn your money—prostituting yourself around campus. And you, Niall, being the most favoured one around campus, bringing in the most for your brothers, yeah? Like how much, $200? Two bills a night for being the best power bottom they've had?" Zayn bites his bottom lip right afterwards, tilting his head back to look at Niall who's currently unamused by everything. Zayn loves when that happens.

Niall nods his head as if the lad was a bobble head himself. "This is why I like you, always full of stories. I hope one day you tell our kids some of this."

"For you, my darling little prick." Zayn's head shakes again, clicking his pen as his head tilts to peek over the notes of who he likes to call his real Psychology buddy. He'd type his notes down, but he's made it a habit to write everything down so the information actually goes to his head and sticks there. Teachers have always been saying this. He doesn't know if it'll be a difference if he types his notes but it occupies him. 

"What is that...?" He mutters, jotting down words in a hurry. She has horrible writing. It's not his reading. In fact, his reading is above his level. He's got doctors writing but her—she's got chicken scratch writing. He can't tell her how her kind of calligraphy hurts him when she's the one who helps him through this class but if he could without a catch, I would.

"An E." The girl beside him replies quietly. His buddy to save the day— always so thankful of her.

"E for easy. Just like Epsilon." Niall whispers and he completely ignores him, totally aware of that piece of shit behind him is being his obnoxious self like every day. If he knew what he thought of him—it'd be more than banters at Psychology 101. A classic saying—this is actually room 214A.

Just two more minutes and he'll be out. Just like that, the bell will ring and he will be out. Alive. He can't believe it.

"Please prepare for tomorrow," The professor projects out to a bunch of students who began to pull of their bags. He always knew kids would be packing their bags to leave five minutes before the bell so he timed himself when to end his lecture to have time to explain something valuable to the class that everyone else saw useless. "I'll be announcing your midterm project before the class ends tomorrow."

Just like he predicted, no one gave a good damn about it and left.

He was just really looking forward to going home. Not that he meant anything bad by packing early—it's his last class of day before succumbing into the call of his bed and his good ol' Bugatti. GTA obviously, he can't even pay off all his tuition without help.

And he knows the blond fuck himself wasn't looking forward to anything but his bed too. Bed and his date at 7 at The Heisman—if they actually agreed to him after all the name calling.

The Heisman is the campus coffee shop, slash pub where everyone comes to do anything really. Anyone can play pool and win a drink with loser buying or cash that'll feed enough for the weekend. They can even play up on the stage; show everyone your knowledge of indie music that everyone always favours. Zayn cannot stand it there. He only visits that hipster fest for the Cuban coffee, club sandwich and pool table. Then straight away, after getting what he wants, he will be gone. Far from those bands. If he's forced to stay there, he sits outside in the patio. It just saddens him when winter comes and he actually has to sit inside.

He arrives home, taking his shoes off by digging his toes down behind his ankles through the hallway, dropping his bag right on the counter where he went straight to the fridge. It was some kind of daily ritual of his that he goes through when he comes home. Not a ritual maybe but a habit to check if the food his left is still there. When Zayn lives with 15 other lads, his plate of food is always in danger. The only thing to prevent any of the other lads from eating anyone's food is to have a name printed clearly claiming ownership for them to see. Although, it doesn't work all the time. And they are called dicks. They are people who pay for the house's dinner to make up for that snake-like behaviour.

"Good, you're here." Harry jumps from the second last step to the floor. His chewing takes a pause, one cheek bigger than the other as he stares at Harry.

"Wha?" He starts to chew really slowly, trying to be subtle that he's in need of this sandwich right now.

"It's Thursday," Harry nods once, looking at him carefully.

"Eeh? I know." He replies muffled with cold sandwich in his mouth. Zayn's got to make sacrifices when he's hungry, and eating a cold, day-old sandwich is one of them under desperation.

"We gotta talk." Harry states slower for Zayn's mind to catch.

"Ah—awh shit!" He groans just as the normality of his Thursday's pop up in his head. "My bad Harry. Slipped completely out of my mind." 

"It's alright." Harry scavenges through the fridge for his Starbucks Frappuccino drink. Smart of him to transfer that thing into a water bottle. "Long day, I know but this'll only take like half an hour. Just tell everyone we'll be starting in an hour. You can nap by then, I'll wake you."

"Nah, it's alright. You can't wake me once I'm out." He shrugs, loosening the tie under this fancy shit zip polo sweater as he plops on the sofa. Zayn hates these. A lot. "Can we talk about uniforms? I mean do we really have to wear these sweaters?”

Harry grimaces apologetically. "We'll look like Kappa so that's out of the order. Sorry Zayn but, you only wear them during class hours and when we go somewhere as a group like a party or something on campus... It's not all bad."

"Baby blue tuxedos are better." He sighs, turning to Harry whose laugh stifles.

"You’re exaggerating." Harry shakes his head. "But how's Psychology for you? Psyched about it?"

"C'mon Harry," Zayn groans at the sad pun. It hurts his head sometimes. "Nice effort on the joke but no. The class is well, but could do better without that damn boy."

"Niall?" Harry laughs. "What'd he do now?"

He coughs out the disturbing feeling in his throat, trying his best to pull Niall's accent. "Fuckin' twaht, did yeh bluh Harry t'get VPeh? Surely positif yav swallowed him down to be VPeh! Bleh bleh...!" He coughs again.

"Nailed it." Harry's forefinger touched his thumb, putting the three fingers up at him as Zayn laughs. "He's just looking for a buzz to kill. Just happens to be you."

"Whatever," He shakes his head. "I've only got an hour with the guy and then I'm out..." He pauses, shaking his head. "But I've got tomorrow... Oh Christ!"

"Just move." Harry wipes his mouth, shoving the drink back into the fridge, hiding it between condiments.

"I sat there first." Zayn retaliated with Harry laughing at his answer. "I have a reason to sit there. What's his?"

"Well, what's yours?"

"I'm able to see everything perfectly. The intensity of light is swell to me..." He continued to list a few—all ridiculous reasons like having the air reach him perfectly when the AC or heater is on. Not too much but not too little either. Still, they were reasons to sit at his seat Harry found understandable. But he's just being extra; he didn't care where he actually sat. He just didn't want to move. Why should he be the one to move?

But the hour passed and he got over today's mayhem with Niall and concentrated on the meeting at hand in the living room. Meetings were usually held at the dinner table but they didn't feel like setting themselves posh for a meeting that was only gonna last for half an hour. And Harry let it slide. He was brilliantly flexible for a newly elected president but no one seemed to hate him for it. He was really receptive for someone who's leading a house full of prestigious brothers and he was really good at for someone who's not as strict as Kappa's leader.

But Harry can't blame that their leader is a hot-headed mess.

No one can.

“Rush week’s here boys!” Harry leaned forward from his seat, “Try not to scare them like last year.”

Last year’s Rush could’ve gone a lot better if Rho Epsilon didn’t go and intimidate people by setting deadlines in front of people’s faces. No one likes deadlines. And chores. Last year, they were pushing Rushers by pointing and shaking their forefingers at freshman, constantly reminding them to attend the party by 9 or forget Rho’s even doing a Rush. And the pledges suffered through a lot. About 20 attended their house for the annual get-to-know-the-frats but there was an estimate of 40 that were interested. It showed those 20 weren’t fit to live with Rho and out of the 20 who came, only 5 pledges made it in. This year’s gonna go through a big change in their recruitment strategy, with any luck now that Harry’s president with Zayn as his second hand. Nevertheless, it’s still terrible when Rho’s new alumnus is the last president who decided to coerce people last year. But the house believes the dick would never come back and they’re more than happy about it.

Harry shoots a look at Zayn and he returned the look reluctantly. He can feel sweat from his hands accumulating now. This was his first meeting as Vice President and it's racking him up—having to speak publicly to his brothers who voted him second hand. He didn’t want to disappoint them, that’s all. And he's positive that he will.

“I-I’m gonna set the rules straight,” He stammers, pausing on what to say. He's already fucked up. There's no going back. “Um, completely no hazing. We’re having none of it.” His words rush out completely. Some of the brothers nodded—some kept a straight face.

There were several cases of hazing that went around Rho last year. It terrified everyone and no one was actually interested in imposing anyone’s well-being. Except the one Alumnus.

“They can’t clean my room?” Anthony asks. He’s been here just as long as Zayn but he asked only for the 5 that’s new to the rules of Rush Week, making it more facetious for them.

“No, you idiot,” He points his finger at Anthony, trying to hold in his laughter. Humour was easing off the anxiety out of him. Thank you Ant. “Clean your own fucking room.”

“Just avoid any offensive shit.” Harry discloses. “Wear your letters through the week, by the way. It means you gotta keep the zip-ups or wear the shirts, I really don’t care. Just wear it. And finally—try to behave. We know how Kappa is. As much as we want to sabotage them, let’s avoid it from happening. Be the bigger person and—30 minutes have passed, we’re finished here. See ya guys.”

Everyone dispersed to God knows what—except Zayn, deciding to leave himself behind for a short time. That meeting was worse than he thought. At least the sweat from his palms are drying.

“That was quick.” He says to Harry, already kicked his feet up, turning the telly on.

“I said it was gonna be quick, didn’t I?” He says concentrated towards the show more than this conversation. “Everyone’s already got a sense of what’s expected during Rush so I see no point in running through it all over again.”

He nods before muttering out what he's been hesitant to say. “I’m sorry by the way, could’ve done better.”

“Don’t be hard on yourself. Everyone’s known you for a while now, Zayn. They don’t care whether you mess up on your sentences or not—they just wanna hear what you have to offer for the benefit of the house. They voted you, didn’t they? They must know what they’re doing.”

“Seriously?” He breathes out, unsure of it all. Unconvinced and amazed at the same time.

“Yes.” Harry says firmly. “Don’t be so doubtful. But go to sleep, weren’t you planning to knock out after?”

“Y-yeah,” He replies just as he enter back in the kitchen, slinging his bag over his shoulder, kicking his shoes towards the door where the other shoes are before making his way up to his room. “If I don’t wake up, goodnight.”

Zayn wishes he didn't have to.

—

Zayn found himself once again near death, seeing the same white illuminating light just like yesterday, getting brighter and brighter as the Professor continued to speak. His skin is starting to burn. On the other note, it was Thursday and there were only 10 more minutes for him to bear through before the Professor is supposed to reveal the step-by-step midterm assignment. Midterms weren't exciting but he's sure leaving this class is better than anything and if he has to get through the long, informative part of the midterm just to go home, he will.

He has gotten somewhat lighter in feeling than yesterday, knowing the lad behind him was sleeping through the lecture. He was talking for a while just before he slept but not to Zayn which he was thankful for. He hates it sometimes that he's gotta deal with Niall's obnoxious arse and the lectures all at the same time.

He tried to keep his head up but lost the fight, slumping his head down on the desk, fighting against  heavy eyes. All he could see as his head faced to the right was his neighbour taking notes—she's always taking notes and the rest of them on my right continuing down, near to death just like him.

"For your midterms everyone, you're going to be creating a Research Report." The professor starts the information about his midterms. Zayn's head shot up to listen.

Fucking great. One of the hardest things for anyone to do. And Zayn can't even decide on which pen to use to write because the three he has are so good.

"Choose a topic and make up your question. I'd say for you to email me your research question but you should have a sense of what the components are. I want to be able to see your topics in by next week. "

Interesting—how fast time goes.

"Nevertheless, you're not working alone anyways." He continues. "Just remember, it's a social science research report. This is not an essay. You won't have a thesis. So consult with your partner, what question you'll be answering. Be elaborative and precise when making your questions. I don't want to have to read up on a research question that's really broad. For those going through with surveys, make sure your surveys have a variety of questions to answer from. 40 at most, 30 being the least. Open and close ended questions are to be expected."

Shit. 30 questions it is then.

"If you're approaching this through participant observations, keep in mind—you've got a short and limited time. Make use of it." 

Zayn's not sure if he's able to juggle the rest of his assignments, especially ones that include papers to do as well. From the syllabus, his professor wants all the 10 steps to be handed to be checker over each week for marks. Hard enough he has to do it with a partner.

"You're given..." The professor opens up a document, showing through the project for everyone to see. "Until the first of November. It's September 22, that gives you a lot of time, really. So I'm expecting a lot from you, guys."

Maybe B plus for Zayn. But he was planning to work with his neighbour, seeing how hard working she is. There are many of them like her, maybe about twenty out of forty but he really never talked to anyone else besides this row and the several people in front of me and behind. He's a hard worker too, just when he has to like for this project. So maybe he'll be able to actually achieve a high mark for the midterm.

"Your partners are up on the screen. If you have any questions, email me or talk to me after class."

Spoke to soon—so much for his plan. His life is like a tragic sitcom. Yet, he's confident about this assignment for some reason. Giddy in his seat, thinking on a topic to do—maybe drugs, or bullying. His mind flourished with ideas to research about as he set the dates of each assignment on his phone. He finally looks up and his giddiness suddenly drained from him like a sink filled with water, his knees abruptly stopped shaking with happiness just as he saw—

"No way." Zayn finally hears Niall's voice, thinking the exact same thing as him. That's the first. No fucking way. They never agree on anything.

"Might I ask, can we request new partners?" Zayn asks his neighbour who's obviously satisfied with her partner. Everyone must be satisfied but Zayn. No one can speak for Niall.

She shrugs. "Talk to him about it, not sure."

"I'm finished." He burrows his face in his folded elbows over the desk.

He keeps his head down, hating the whole buddy-system for this assignment. How could he be paired with Niall when there are a hundred other students that could've been his partner. It had to be Niall, out of everyone.

He waited for the group of students asking the professor questions to clear. The idea was beginning to rot in his head now, having the Kappa idiot work with him on a single month project. He was not tolerating it one bit, just as he read over his name again.

Niall Horan.

Niall Horan.

Niall James fucking Horan.

With Zayn in the next column, beside Niall James fucking Horan. He couldn't swallow this down. Partners, really?

"Sir," He confronts his professor, gripping the straps of his bag. "If it's not a bother to you of any kins, I'd like to request a new partner."

"Why's that?" He asks, tentatively focused on his laptop.

"There's a toxic disparate between him and I. He communicates far more compared to myself." Zayn tried to make his reason more pleasant than it seems. He couldn't just say to his professor that Niall's the biggest, unsatisfying, asshole he's ever met. It's not professional. "It's not a good balance."

"Yeah," Niall joins in. Goodness! Not now! "As much as I wanna work with Zayn, let's actually not us have work together. He's always been distracted of me; I don't know what I'll do." He sighs afterwards. Zayn's never been distracted because of him. Maybe once or twice but Niall being distracted by Zayn topped Zayn being distracted by Niall won by far compared to that reasoning.

"To be more exact and specific, he's also confidently arrogant. Do what you will." He adds in. Maybe he can add a few more reasons.

"C'mon Zayn, we talked about this yesterday." Niall drawled out, throwing his arm around his shoulders and Zayn's cheeks begin to burn as he felt his stupid warm hands on him.

“Sir.” He implores, prolonging the blink of his eyes. “I'm not enjoying this.”

The professor watched the two of them look at each other sardonically. Even the professor was amused with this. Zayn thinks the two of them were doing it just to piss him off. “As much as I wanna change your partner—“ He found a lot of amusement coming from us. 

“Farewell.” Zayn quickly moved from Niall, ready to unleash some sort of wrath if he doesn't get out of there quick. He would if Niall pissed him off even more.

Walking back, Zayn gripped firmly on the straps of his bag—his hand occupied by a lit cigarette—his stress reliever if you can call it that. It’d take Zayn about 5 packages of Sterling to get through to be composed, having a clear indication that he has to actually spend time with Niall. For a goddamn month, he'll have to actually communicate with the bastard and listen to him when he's notoriously known for being a joker when things are everything but comical. No one likes those types of people and Zayn's got to practically see one at least once a day, more than an hour—maybe four at most.

He arrived home, not doing his custom of rummaging through the fridge for his stored food. Instead, he let the thought of him and Niall working together mesh around in his head. It’s made him dejected, avoiding everyone in the house by holding himself in his room, letting the heavy beats of his playlist drain the knocks on his door, calls of his name, asking if he wants to go out for dinner. He stayed.

Zayn hates the fact he let this get to his head—yet he can’t help that Niall makes him angry, makes him irate whenever he shows his face in class, laughing, talking. Whatever he does—Zayn disapproves of it all. Niall can save two puppies to show his ‘act of kindness’ but he’ll have to save a thousand more to make good terms against Zayn. It won’t even be for certain that he would accept Niall’s amends if he actually does apologize for orientation and his behaviour onward, he really hate the guy. He should be nicer, yet it's not possible for Zayn to try. His fraternity has nothing to do it with his detestation towards Niall but it’s one motive he uses to argue against him. Stupid but doable.

Rho isn’t one to let Kappa get to them, especially when Kappa’s got the nerve to act as if they’re potentially the best fraternity out there. Hands down it was Rho themself, and Kappa’s got their spotlight sometimes and they let them have it. But unlike them, Kappa looks for ways to overturn our time for the light. It infuriated them a lot, having to deal with it all every several weeks when the fraternities and sororities hold events for the school and charities. Always over-competitive and naive during the Greek games and charity runs. No one ever understands Kappa’s intentions but no one ever questions them on it.

They didn’t want to deal with the menace that was Kappa’s president.

**Unknown Number:** _yooooooooo_

Zayn's phone buzzed him awake to the next morning.

**Zayn:** _Who’s this?_

**Unknown Number:** _A good mate of urs_

**Zayn:** _If you’re a good mate, why don’t I know your number?_

**Unknown Number:** _Maybe I changed my # Guess who it is_

**Zayn:** _Ant, Ben, Jordan… Leigh?_

Zayn listed people he talks to the most. Harry was one but Harry’s not one to play games like these. Sometimes he is but he can tell right off the bat. None of his friends really text with proper grammar and punctuation.

**Unknown Number:** _Im offended_

**Zayn:** _Why??_

**Unknown Number:** _Sit rii behind u in psych and im not a good mate_

Zayn prolonged his eyes’ blink. He does it often when he's got nothing nice to say. How often does that happen with Niall? Really often. Approximately 10 times. Sometimes he'd even keep them closed for a solid minute to show how much of an idiot they really are.

**Zayn:** _You've acquired my number exactly how?_

**Unknown Number:** _Ppl. Know if I asked u , u wouldn’t give me_

**Zayn:** _What do you want that you had to text me. Not even letting a bit of leverage between the two hours since class has finished?_

**P** **sych Partner:** _Dont be gassed up I only got ur number to talk about the assignment_

**Zayn:** _I'm not interested in going far with any kind of conversation. Whether or not be via text or face to face. Make use of yourself, spill your idea._

**Psych Partner:** _Lol. Was wonderin if you did_

**Zayn:** _You’re horribly useless_

**Psych Partner:** _Ur one to talk. Do u ?_

**Zayn:** _I'm not compromising any kind of idea if you're not either. Equal work. Partners now rmr?_

**Psych Partner:** _Duck u_

**Zayn:** _Right._

**Psych Partner:** _Whoopps **fuck u_

**Zayn:** _Sourpuss_

**Psych Partner:** _K_

Zayn hates being K’d just like any other person via text or chat but he wasn’t gonna fight Niall against it. Thank God the conversation stopped. He buries his face down on his pillow again, waiting for the actual alarm to go off instead of this buzzing that Niall kept making happen.

Not even five minutes, his phone buzzed again. Never mind that peace.

**Psych Partner:** _K got it  
_ _Sex_

**Zayn:** _What?_

**Psych Partner:** _Ik you're interested but let’s keep it on topic ..  What motivates teenagers to have premarital sex?_

Unbelievably hard to think now that Zayn agrees with this kind of  sensitive idea to some of these students on campus considering how immature the majority is such as Niall. 

**Zayn:** _I want a new topic._

**Pscyh Partner:** _Scared of sex? Haha! I'd rather you focus on my idea_

**Zayn:** _We’ll do it on Rush then_

**Psych Student:** _What motivates students to Rush?_

**Zayn:** _It ain’t bad  Who knows rush better than we do?_

**Psych Partner:** _Yeeeeah... It's better. But great you’re in charge of making survey questions_

**Zayn:** _Not quite, partner_

This is a train through hell. And Zayn's the guy who paid a first class ride, dealing with Niall. Is it too late for a refund?

—

The beginning of the weekend: all the boys go out, doing anything that's fun, that relaxes them from work and classes. Anything heavy on their backs, the freedom of the weekend was a way to let everything fall back from them. It could be anything—the theatre for a few movies, a paintball game, skating if it was winter, go-karts if the weather is kind. They do anything up to playing polo to doing a porn club for the night—just like book club where they read a book and talk about it but with porn, watching it on their home theatre. It's funny—especially if Anthony is making commentary. But that only lasts for two minutes when you've got repeated moves and a movie about a dog is up instead.

And tonight's hang out is at a festival—Drake's OVO festival that all of them were crazy for. Zayn's a big fan of the Toronto rapper and who isn't? And with the opportunity to go to the festival he's wanted to go to ever since his album released, to go with his brothers—he will fucking take the opportunity any day, over anything.

Maybe over some things, but over a midterm project, he didn’t when Niall's been bugging him all day to finish survey at least 15 questions for the survey that didn't include the age or sex and gender or religion. How could he avoid losing his mind? He’s been texting him every now and then through the day about getting it done. And he dropped OVO festival tickets to meet with Niall later, to work all day on a goddamn assignment that won't be of any importance to his life after 3 years. Now Drake is something that will be but no, the dumb arse regrettably gave his ticket away to Harry’s sister. He skipped the festival. Zayn skipped it, He skipped it, and he fucking skipped it. He skipped it all for Niall so he can go through the assignment smoothly.

Why?

What a dumb move to make and Zayn made it, with a real sense of consciousness to do so. This is going to bite him in the ass one day.

He listened to Take Care through his sound system in his room and he knew the festival right now that the sound is way better through his ears than these Sony speakers on his desk. This is sad to him.

He changes artists, trying to remove this huge rain cloud over him just listening to Drake knowing his brothers are watching him without him. He'd cry if he has to but he couldn't get his sheets of paper wet.

**Zayn:** _Hey, I'd like a reply by 8_

Zayn's eyes are weary. It sounded easy—to make up 15 survey questions that would answer their social science research question. It sounds very easy but difficult when Zayn actually attempts to think of different questions. There had to be multiple choice questions, some ranking ones, and some truth and false. It had to be unbiased as well. It's fucking horrible. And he's eager to get his part done. Eight wasn't bad under his circumstances and it only took him the whole day to think through.

The whole day...

And skipped the festival too. Who was he kidding?

**Zayn:** _What has you so preoccupied that you won't use your thumbs to reply a word back?_

Zayn sent several frustrated texts to Niall. The lad hasn't been replying since 7 when Zayn was on his 8th question. It's exactly 8:06 and 8 o'clock was the time he agreed to meet the arse to show the questions he's come up with so far. He hasn't got a clue what to really do. He's not stingy about the 6 minutes after 8 but he's sure as hell with Niall's much delayed reply to his texts. How can he express his hate for late texts? He could smash his phone between the door 150,000 times and it would still seem like he loved it.

**Zayn:** _I presume we're going to go over these...._

8:19. Nothing

**Zayn:** _Drake is both the ambassador of Toronto's ball team and a successful, world-wide rap artist who recently let out a single, "started from the bottom"_

_I didn't throw my night to share some facts about the rap artist_

**Zayn:** _Seriously?_

8:35. Still nothing.

**Zayn:** _Usually, those with striving ambitions start from the bottom before reaching the pinnacle of overachieving and success  
_ _You, Niall, on the other hand—will find yourself 6ft bottom if I don't get any kind of idea that you've acknowledged my texts._

9:13. Stiiiill nothing.

Started from the bottom, ending at the bottom

Zayn would let go being stood up, even waiting an hour. He'll forgive that he's been left at the Heis for an hour. It's not a big deal to him; he didn't want to be here in the first place and no one knew he was waiting on someone anyways. He brought his Mac Book to the Heis to work on the rest of the survey questions but as of now, he looks real stereotypical with a Mac Book on his table at a Cafe, slash Pub with an order of coffee right beside him.

Just sitting here, still anticipating Niall's arrival after an hour being late; he actually finished the two questions he needed. Zayn didn't need Niall to complete some for him at all. Fuck Niall. Useless sod he is. Now he had to do his part and he won't offer the tiniest bit of help. Zayn's not gonna help him just like Niall didn't help him.

Cynical? Sure. But Zayn wasn't raised by Mother Theresa.

On the other hand, Zayn can care less how ridiculous he looks with a Mac Book at a cafe. In his mind, the only genuine thing he's having thoughts for is how he was going to kill Niall for making him miss one of the biggest festivals after he told him he had to stay and do it with no buts or ifs.

He's crazy stupid to agree, yet this has been the first time Niall's ever been serious of something. Yet, he had been too quick to have thought that when Niall's been AWOL with Zayn texting his concerns to him about the survey. Now he was serious but he really can't give a good crap about this midterm assignment. They're given a good month to work on this and the two of them are working on it the day after it's been assigned.

A little procrastination wouldn't hurt anyone. Though, since the topic they chose to do was Rush, they had to get them done before Monday so they would be able to give 20 of our surveys out to people interested in Rushing and finally take a goddamn rest. He won't have to spend much of his time that he expected to spend with the arse—thank God.

Zayn kept his vow to kill Niall, walking across the campus from the Heis to go to Kappa Tau's territory. He might burn just stepping over their pathway of red mason bricks. He might not even make it to the door with his skin suffering from third-degree burns.

Kappa Tau had a reasonable large house like Epsilon. Kappa's is red all over with tall column support, keeping the Greek tradition alive. All the houses had the Greek columns to support their roofs above the door to have the houses stand out compared to the dormitories. So Kappa's house looks like a Beverly Hills mansion, just smaller and less prestigious—lesser than everyone's if you knew what kind of people Kappa are.

Rho wasn't with the white Greek tradition as their house was built with a run-down kind of grey bricks. If it was wet with rain, it'd look black. The all-white is great but they found it even better to have a black-and-white house. Black walls, white columns and windows. Even though the dark bricks were a mistake to begin with but the houses here have been up since 1962—this wasn't anyone's problem to deal with now in 2016 but the people in '62 Fraternity university generation.

He suddenly changed his mind about murdering Niall just as he placed his hand over their gate. He had done too much work already. And he won't spend his remaining energy to throw it all the way and kill Niall when he can be doing something far more productive. Like saving a beached whale.

He pulls his hands back from the gate, making his way home instead of pursuing his promise to kill Niall tonight. He'll keep his vows, remember it in his head and kill him tomorrow instead.

He's already burdened with the sad fact he didn't go to the festival and he didn't want to let all of this Niall shit pull him 6'feet under the ground. He's missed a festival he had wanted to go to—this was enough to have him crawl under his blankets commando and knock out early as 10. It's Saturday and he was calling it early. No one would believe it.

His brothers' won't even be home until 12, he believed. Except they'd actually be home by 1. And the house is dead silent. Anyone can make it seem like a horror film because it's too quiet for such as house as this. Hollywood can film in this house if they want and not have to hire any stage crew to set the atmosphere. They can hire Zayn as the next Dave Franco.

It's 10 at night, maybe being too early for any spirits to haunt the house. Just like it was too early for him to be sleeping on Saturday. He was there naked without anyone beside him. Pathetic, pathetic, all is pathetic. Could be better with someone—can still be.

He scrolls down his contact list, most of his contacts were brothers and there were some contacts he could call that'd be willing to come here at 11 then leave at 12 when he's not giving a good shit about anything anymore. Wow, was his phone bright alright.

_Perrie_

_Frenchie_

_Shereen_

_Harry_

Hot but insane.

Hot but boring.

Hot but very emotional afterwards.

Brother but willing. At that goddamn festival.

—

Zayn wakes up with a shirt over his head. He peels it off, chucking it to the side of the room when he noticed the front of the shirt.

Fucking OVO merchandise. 

He gets himself up from his bed, slipping on a new pair of boxers and putting a vest tank and shorts on after. He hates the idea of working out early in the morning on a Sunday. He hates the idea of working out to start with anyways. He rested really early last night so he was filled with energy he didn't expect to have the next morning. Usually he would sleep and wake up feeling like shit. Today's one of those rare moments where he'd wake up actually rejuvenated. Thank you, for once.

As for Harry—his fucking work out partner, the one who actually persuaded him to go with him every morning to the gym to do a bit of weights and sparring at boxing, is still sleeping in his bed. It was expected coming from a festival so he allowed Harry to get a few minutes before ruining it for him. He was too kind for this. He takes any opportunity to wake Zayn up whenever he feels like and Zayn doesn't give him anything about it. He should start.

He goes through the Sunday morning routine of his—wash his face, brush his teeth, and shave if he wants to but most likely not when he just did a few days back. He'd shower later since he'll be doing at bit of work, even though he often showers just before heading out the door.

"Harry," He croons, shaking Harry's ankle; his fucking ashy ankles.

"Wha—" Harry suddenly shoves his feet on Zayn's groin who fell right on the floor with a bursting explosion right in his crotch. Not the one bubble gum advertisers describe to be.

"Fuck, dude!" His larynx tightens to the exerting pain, trying to repress the pain coming from his groin. "Some reflex!"

"I would've punched you square in your throat if you shook my shoulders." Harry warns and wipes his face, pressing his thumb and forefinger on the inner corners of his eyes. "Sorry man."

Zayn hitches his arm on the end of the bed, lifting himself up. He bites his lip as hard as possible, still feeling the sharp pain. "That's a pain that'll be etched in my memory," Zayn wheezes. "The gym is calling us down." 

"Right, give me like two minutes." Harry mumbles and Zayn leaves him to his business.

His dick still hurts. A lot.

The campus had a gym moderate enough for a few students to go to. A small ring is included for sparring and tournaments which Harry and Zayn were into more than the weights or treadmill. Zayn think it's more fun to jab and lunge his fists towards Harry who made their sparring difficult with his will to punch more than to evade.

The two of them throw aside their sweaters; kick off their training trousers, revealing their sparring gear. Man, Adidas is getting popular these days when all Zayn saw was Harry who is across from him wearing his Adidas shorts while he came in here with an Adidas bag, wearing an Adidas sweater. He was a walking advertisement.

Sparring against one another is even more exciting in ways that neither weights nor treadmill can provide. The two of them do this every week on Sunday. It could be any day of the week. Except, Sunday's the day where everyone's wearing themselves down from a previous wild night. That doesn't include Zayn when he's been down since Friday. Sunday has something that lifts the heavy weight off his back that he's been dealing with, making his whole entire mood all but worse or bad. It's weird but he appreciates it.

"How'd you enjoy the festival?" Zayn coils his handwrap around his left hand.

"Great." Better than great. Zayn knew Harry avoided going farther than great, knowing how he had to spend his night. This was Drake they were talking about. It wasn't just great. "How was your assignment?"

"I don't appreciate the purpose of that question." Zayn shakes his head, eyeing the movement of handwrap around his knuckles.

"You should've left it to work on it today so you could have went yesterday. What are you gonna do today?" Harry queries, slipping his hand into his gloves.

"Work on it again," Zayn starts on wrapping his right hand. "I haven't quite finished."

"You worked on it all day," Harry points out confused. "You've not finished?"

"I'm kind of unlucky." He slips on his pair of gloves after. He tilts his head, causing his bone to crack.

"Unlucky how?" Harry asks, staring Zayn eye to eye. His knees bounce, clenching his fist, knuckles burning white under his gloves. "Twenty-five percent." He says to him. Zayn nods at the given percentage. The percentages were based on how strong they'd spar against each other. Twenty-five was decent enough for them. A hundred would have them fucked considering they weren't really trained to actually box.

"Recall the last time you said that—left a bruise on my cheek, yeah? Remember?" Zayn grins though, laughing at the memory. God, Harry's punches hurt. Purple for a whole entire week, had to ice it down with peas because no one wanted to freeze any ice.

Harry nods. He remembers well. Zayn put him in a kind of guilt people can't get out from as much as they try. And it got to him bad when he started crying to Zayn one day about how horrible he was.

He steps closer to the middle of the ring. Zayn does the same, clenching his fist. The two of them stand, face-to-face, staring down each other's eyes, trying to find that centre of weakness the two of them don't show to each other. Both Harry and Zayn eager to start, forget to bump fists with each other. Instead, they bring their fists close to their face, eyeing the opponent across them. If Zayn can play a song right now, he would choose to play an ACDC song just to get in the mood. But this was an open gym and Timber was playing by Ke$ha and Pitbull which lowered Zayn's motivation to do anything.

Zayn doesn't keep his eyes off Harry who's also having his sights attentively towards him. Once the two of them get in the Zone—it's as if they are able to read each other's minds.

A simple blink of his eyes sets Harry forward right at Zayn to jab at his torso, effortfully breaking his defence to get a good hit on Zayn's chin. Pay attention! He said to himself. Zayn keeps his hold, flexing his abdomen, avoiding the take down under two minutes into the spar. He is determined not to lose this time, especially when this will be Zayn's fifth loss if Harry wins.

Harry is relentless, not devoting any time to let Zayn stand on this ring for another five minutes. His left goes straight in for another good blow on Zayn's stomach. The force is enough for him to let his arms fall to attempt to hug his stomach to the jolting pain of Harry's punch. Harry takes the opportunity of Zayn's open defence to thrust his right onto the side of Zayn's torso, breaking the held spot. Either this wasn't twenty-five because it shouldn't hurt as much or Zayn is intolerable to pain now. 

Zayn let himself be pushed back to the ropes, flexing his whole body against Harry's left and right. He does the classic 1/2 punches on his stomach again. Out of nowhere, Harry hooks him right on the face from his left, followed by his right uppercutting Zayn's arm unintentionally. This wouldn't hurt if he worked out more. Harry's changing his pattern, trying to find his weak spots on Zayn's body. He was aware of Harry's motive, letting him throw more punches on Zayn.

A swipe from the left, a jab from the right. Left, left, right. Right, left, right. All ending with Harry's dominant arm. They were short blows to the face. It allows Harry to move quickly, disallowing Zayn to make any moves. He was being pushed back against the ropes. Zayn should have stretched a bit more than pulling his right arm to his left and his left to his right.

It's a predictable play by Harry that Zayn's plan to take Harry down is going according to Zayn's way. Harry's instinctive, fiery mind gives him the advantage right now. Harry striking weakened against Zayn's body that his muscles didn't need to be flexed to hold the pain off.

Harry pulls a straight right into the shoulder, sending his left onto the left shoulder. This knocks Zayn back with his shoulder joints suddenly throbbing in heavy pain. Final swing to finish his combo—Zayn ducks down from the expected hard hook at his face. He appears behind Harry, triggering his sharp instincts to do a 360 and a swing to his opponent. He jabs becomes effortless and messy—leaving his arm out longer than usual. Zayn swiftly dodges it again. He strikes his first blow to Harry's open defence. This sends him falling back onto the ropes, arm holding the ropes to keep his stance. Another open defence, another good opportunity—Zayn goes right in for his shoulder, knocking Harry down forward just as he presses his shoulder.

"Twenty-five," Zayn reminds him with a grin, breathing heavily. "Still twenty-five."

"I know," Harry on his knee, huffs for air. "So, how unlucky are you?" He remembers to continue to conversation.

"I've got Niall Horan working with me as my midterm partner." Zayn's knees bounce with his arms close against his chest—back to defence. His breaths were short and ragged as Zayn distances himself from Harry.

"Hasn't put in any effort?" Harry asks, rotating his shoulders.

Zayn shakes his head, firming his fists. "Afraid not. Stood me up yesterday at Heis. Texted him fairly a lot."

"Have you seen him?" Harry's back into his defensive position.

"Nah, the bitch hasn't answered any texts. I don't know what he's occupied with himself." He exhales.

"Maybe you're lucky after all," Harry grins behind at Zayn. He slowly turns his head, cautious if it was who Zayn's been anticipating to see for this assignment. He hasn't done anything and for him to, would be one thing that'll actually make him happy for the day. Or a second before he fucks up.

Fuck! Zayn turns his head back quickly at Harry, "He's no—" 

And BANG! A good swipe on his cheek and a straight punch to his gut sends him down on the floor holding his stomach. Zayn should've seen that coming.  Defenseless and vulnerable, he shouldn't have fell for his stupid tricks. But Zayn didn't get the memo that we were playing some today. Harry turns him over onto his stomach, bending his arm on his back. Zayn fought to take it back but Harry's persistent.

He suddenly sits himself on him with each leg over his sides. Zayn's chest started lifting faster as his breath quickened at this surprise. He couldn't help but stop the fight against Harry's weight on him. Won't fight against the good, missed feeling on him. Shouldn't like the feeling when they're in the middle of sparring—or ending. Zayn completely lost this.

"Boxing doesn't require any type of ligaments roping around each other's—whereas MMA—" Zayn huffs, trying to look back at Harry. Couldn't help but give Harry a smirk for this.

"I know," Harry croons near his ear. "Remember when I had you like this?"

"Yes." He says coolly. Zayn remembers well. He just didn't like how Harry was on him like this. Maybe he likes it a bit. Maybe a lot more if he wasn't sweating everywhere.

"You still flexible?" Harry asks.

"I-I'm unsure." Zayn shrugs, biting his lip.

"We'll see later, when we get back home?" Harry asks, right in his ear this time. Shit, Zayn can feel his sweaty torso on his back.

"I don't mind." Zayn breathes out. "I had thoughts occurring yesterday to make a call."

"I'd do you right here, right now if it weren't filled with people." Harry grins.

Zayn nods as the idea passes in his mind—being pounded on the ring—naked and sweaty. Fuck, not now. "N-nice... Can I get up now?" 

"Oh. Oh yeah, sorry." Harry immediately lifts himself from Zayn. He got up right afterwards when Harry got off Zayn, rushing to get off the ring to pack his equipment.

"That last punch wasn't twenty-five. Neither was that fair what you did." Zayn removes the handwrap and gloves.

"Had to go for fifth streak." Harry laughs.

A slow start for his Sunday, despite the quick paced spar that Harry cheated his way to win. Knowing it'll be slower as he gets through the day, Zayn plans to keep away from the house. It's always slow for everyone on a Sunday when everyone is focusing on work now. Unless Harry calls a meeting, the day will go even longer for Rho. 

He might even call another meeting with the annual charity auction where different departments of the campus, teams and all of the fraternities and sororities involve themselves in a team effort to raise high bids for divided charities and hospitals. The team or group who wins—raising the highest bids receives $1,000 for their team. And the fraternity needs it more than anyone. The science department does too but not much of them are into the whole charity giving until these certain ones come because of the money. There was no room for the inexperienced and selfish. Despite selfishness, the only reason the fraternity needed it was to put the funds towards their savings. 

Rho with the others, throw this massive themed party to celebrate the new brothers and sisters into the fraternities and sororities. All of them pitch about an equal amount to rent out a secluded hall beside the waterfront and past fraternities and sororities done this for over many years, and the hall is $700 but worth it. So everyone has to pitch in about $175 and if they add in, they would only be left with three figures and they kind of need to live. No one was willing to live under a budget, no fucking way.

This has been important to them and there's always a year where Kappa ruins it for Rho. Zayn is aware of it all but he didn't want to put it through his head when Harry wasn't making his Sunday so slow anymore.

Speaking of slow, that's how Harry paced himself against Zayn; his legs lifted over Harry's shoulder as he stood at the end of the bed. Still flexible. Still compliant to Harry's wishes. Harry leaned forward, pushing all of himself in Zayn as he bites his lip, feeling him prod on his prostate. Zayn's leg bends in with Harry's arm pushing his leg to bend more. Fuck, this is good.

Zayn wasn't supposed to make this a regular thing with Harry now that he became his right hand—figuratively speaking. The first time was just a drunk escapade where Zayn was dared to go full tongue with the person in the circle who he found attractive. And he kissed Harry—for the fuck of it at that night not knowing anyone in that circle. Didn't think he'd be doing it for the fuck of it now when Harry's making Zayn taste his tongue now.

Zayn didn't feel anything towards Harry—this was all but platonic. He was just a go-to because of his experience and he liked how Harry made him feel when they were doing things like this. And this was their president—nothing more, nothing less. Just fun.

But Zayn can promise he never sucked Harry off to become Vice President like Niall called. It just so happens the two of them like each other's company and Zayn's a humble and trusting guy that Rho could benefit from that Harry nominated for VP. And the nomination happened before things changed.

He left Harry back in his room even though that's not first choice on what to do noon on a Sunday. Zayn took a shower then headed down to the library—keeping his promise that he won't stray around the house much today. The assignment corrupted his head like hypnotization. He didn't need a clap or snap to trigger him to work—it just happens when Zayn believes Niall will kick his ass if they don't finish this by today. Zayn should be kicking his ass, not the other way around.

Zayn wasn't gonna go to the library alone—no one does that, not unless he wants to be alone or actually work. He didn't wanna be alone and he is far from having any interests in his assignment. Niall still hasn't replied to the 40 messages Zayn has sent about him coming to the Heis at 8 yesterday so he gave up the idea of trying to text him today. He hasn't seen him around campus since Friday afternoon.

"An apple." Leigh says sternly, eying the apple then Zayn. "You've brought me an apple. Healthy, yet—horrifying.”

She's very close with Zayn—the only person that she can tolerate from the Fraternity. Rho has a good name—about 10 of them altogether but 4 of those Leigh met who didn't get on her good side. She's definitely attractive—with a fit figure and a beautiful face—always catching Zayn's fucking brothers' attention when she visits the house to hang out. And he always has to remember never to invite her in the house. She only comes to the party and that doesn't even set the boundaries for them. Zayn has to pretend sometimes that he has something platonic with her to push the brother's and their friends to away from her. It's mighty ridiculous—annoying Zayn when he comes home from dates with her.

She wasn't interested in anyone. If she was, he'd be her first choice. She already let him know that. Yet, it was weird for them to go past beyond the stage of being friends.

"You said you were hungry." Zayn shrugs, tentatively focused on his Mac Book. "You're welcome."

"Thanks," she mutters embarrassed. "What I mean—I didn't expect you to bring an apple. You can't even eat it in this place."

"I'll buy you lunch if you help me with my assignment." Zayn rubs his tired eyes.

"Ooh, free lunch. I'm very interested in that. What d'ya need?" Leigh reads his screen, "What motivates students to participate in runch—rush! Sorry." 

Zayn folds the screen down, with a sheepish smirk on his face. "We'll go now, yeah?"

"I'll help ya—I swear." She laughs, "It’s an honest mistake."

"I don't mind—I really don't want to work either." Zayn beckons his head at her to go.

"So why'd we come t'the library?" Her eyebrows narrow in, slinging her backpack over her shoulders.

They make their way to the Heis. It's always a horrible 5-minute walk across campus from the library for a fucking sandwich plate at Heis. Too good to resist that $10 plate with curly fries.

"I've been assigned to a vexatious assignment of the year." Zayn sighs.

"When's it due?" Her arm loops threw the other strap of her bag.

"First week of November." Zayn says flatly. The more he reminds himself that this thing is due a month after, the more he begins to finally realize how out of his mind he is.

Leigh snorts at his answer just like he expected. Anyone normal would be laughing at Zayn's goddamn answer. "You're crazy, it's just October next week."

Procrastination not at its best. It's odd—society's accustomed to doing things last minute and when Zayn is finally doing an assignment at a moderate date and time, he gets shit for it. He's still with society—it is really better for him to be doing this midterm, this early.

"I'm partnered through this midterm with Niall Horan," Zayn gives a nod at Leigh whose face grimaces weakly. "It's a burden more than an opportunity of any kind. I question myself is to why I'm establishing myself to endure this kind of perplex work ethic with someone who doesn't even have a work ethic."

She suddenly starts burgeoning with laughter, "what the hell did you say? All I know is that you're talking about that little cute lad in Kappa?" And Zayn's raises his eyebrow at her. She said what?

Zayn stares at her for a while, evoking that smile of hers when she wants to apologize but she doesn't mean it because it's too much of a joke to her. "Well, that's unexpected," Zayn breathes out sullenly. "I've recalled my offer to buy you lunch. It's up for anyone but you."

"I apologize! Okay—w-what makes him a bad partner?"

She's saved herself that time. "The lad had me skip Drake last night—" Leigh 'ooohs' between his evidences. Zayn doesn't know why he has to prove himself when he's told Leigh countless number of times how he is. It makes Zayn think that she's not listening to his stories from all this time, lying to him. How much times did he tell his mates this story anyway? "I was told by that imbecile I had to put all my endeavours on our assignment and finish before Monday. We had to meet at Heis. More or less, he never arrived. The lad had decided it was a good time through the weekend to go incognito."

"Might be busy." She says. "So sorry you missed the festival."

"So am I." Zayn slightly grimaces. 

They reach Heis, not wasting any more time to look through the menu knowing very what they had. He can't understand why Leigh likes the Heis. He resents this place. It's dark atmosphere and the extensive smell of coffee. There's a limit and this was a lot for his taste. And this band; Jonny Roster—horrible. He doesn't need to hear any more indie. Instead, they sit outside in the patio, basking under the rare sun in autumn.

"Why do you have more fries than me?" She chews the fry between her forefinger and thumb.

"'Cause I'm fuckin' hot!" Zayn spits out arrogantly, his face twists in a wry amusement.

"I hope you fail your midterm." Her expression turns bleak at him. Zayn likes to do this a lot. Zayn likes to tell people how attractive he is because they can't go and counter the honest truth because—well, it's the truth. Sometimes like right now. There are other times he looks horrible and has no idea why he had gone out that day.

"Can't quite hear you—over my fries." Zayn smiles falsely at her.

"Alright, listen to this question, since you paid for lunch—If your parents forbid you to join fraternities and sororities," Leigh began to ask. "Would you still join?"

"Nice." Zayn nods, chewing between his food.

Zayn types it down on his phone, knowing he won't remember it afterwards without having her repeat it at least three times again.

"You should consider joining," he suggests. He looks up at Leigh for a reaction. He realizes, "you may or may not love it."

"I'd rather not." She scoffs, making out a bite on her lunch. Zayn knows it's too good to be true. "I like living at my complex. Alone. No one to go through the fridge and have them take my food."

"Occurs once in a while. They pay their debt with dinner, by any means." It happens frequently but Leigh didn't need to know the truth. 

"That's your mates, not the birds over there." She points out. "I'm used to how men live, considering how I've got three brother's back home, pulling the same shit as you guys. And I don't wanna be here for it."

"I'd formally invite you to join—" Zayn grins at the comical relief. 

"I can only stand so much of you guys," She grimaces. "No thanks."

Zayn swallows down his food. "Do me a favour and involve yourself in Rush week. I can ask Harry's sister Tiff to give you a tour."

"I appreciate what you're doing Zayn, but I'm not gonna fit." She lifts her hair from the back. "Maybe, I'll take the tour to waste time but I won't join."

"I don't want you to join," Zayn scoffs. "There will be an altercation by which you will have called upon them. Can't have that."

"Hilarious, but I can't stay for any more of your jokes. I'm gonna have to leave early Zayn, got a meeting with the team." Gymnastics team. "Good luck on your conquest."

Zayn gives a nod as she crosses over the fence, surprising customers. It made him think how Leigh's able to get through her gymnastics team full of girls but not any other girls. But he learned this on the lesson of groups. A sociologist’s way of looking at a group involves the separation of the group into two. Group 1 involves personal people in a person’s life that they often open up intimately compared to people in Group 2. The second group involves acquaintances and people you're forced to communicate—able to be easily replaced for your skill.

He didn't think he'd remember any of this, knowing he's half-awake when the lecture's going. He gave himself an imaginary pat on the back, for remembering something from a lecture and for finishing this fucking huge plate of club sandwich and fries. He decided to let Leigh choose what to do during Rush week, now understanding the position she was in.

He was only trying to help her. She didn't have a good sense of belonging in university and its third year now—first year when they first met. She's gone through a whole series of friends, not much she wanted to stay with except Zayn and a few girls from her classes. Anyone can count them all if they try and he did—ending with a total of 7. He didn't want to be that guy to push his friend to have any more friends. He couldn't grasp that since he was in a fraternity—he's meant to have more friends and connections than the next person who isn't. And he was trying to, almost able to see how Leigh was seeing the university around her.

And he finally finished all 30 questions.

It's 6 in the evening when Zayn finally finished the survey questions. He's proud of this two-day accomplishment that he did all by himself. A subtle help from Leigh but no one couldn't know that. Of course, the other students are scamming questions from others—if they started any early as Zayn. The only help he's able to get that the professor could know is from Niall. But where the fuck is he? He already had Zayn dedicate his weekend to this rubbish—he wasn't gonna let Niall go without doing any work. The only way to look for someone who's gone silent on him was their home. He found himself at the gates of Kappa again, looking at the eggshell white of the house again. It's fucking blinding.

He had thoughts in his head that made him contemplate how he can pull Niall out of that house. There was a strict rule for the rival houses and it's never to enter in the rival's house. That's why Zayn and Niall avoided making any plans to do any work at each other's house. There weren't any exceptions to be made and there were many that a few wanted to break because some had friends in there. Jordan has Lucas living in Kappa, so they couldn't play together over the Ps4 unless they played online.

Just like Jordan and Lucas who wanted the rule to make exceptions, Zayn did too only for a matter of minutes so he can drag Niall out himself and beat the living fuck out of the blond sloth.

Thirty questions, Zayn did them all.

Missed a festival, to do thirty questions. Zayn did them all.

Stood up in Heis, having to listen to indie music for a solid hour, to work on twenty questions. Zayn did them all.

Where was Niall?

Not doing it all.

Zayn shoves the gate wider than he thought he'd open it, not expecting the light weight of it. He marches right at the door, leaning on the wall before he starts banging his fist on the egg shell white door. That'll be Niall's complexion when he's through with him for causing all this grief on him.

Thirty seconds in—not a goddamn answer.

"Answer your door!" Zayn yells, trying to keep his voice in a moderate tone, still firm and forceful. His fist hits robustly against the door.

"Why all the yelling—" Lucas comes out with his eyebrows creased in with an exhale Zayn is able to hear from a meter away. His eyes widen at the company of mine before he narrows his eyes at him. "Why the fuck are you here? You know regulations." Jordan and Lucas were buddies—that didn't include Zayn and their other brothers.

"I'm on your condescending door mat, for your bright mind information—not in your house now am I?" Zayn scoffs, staring at the difference between Lucas' stance and his. "Such an attempt to become a smart arse with me."

Lucas sigh comes out exasperated towards him as Zayn's eyebrow's raises at him. He made it well known he didn't like the shit arrogance coming from Lucas when he knows how nice he is with Jordan. "If you're not aware, we're quite bus—"

"Where's your V.P?" Zayn cut to the matter of the point.

"... Busy with a meeting he's holding." Lucas continues. "If you're nice, we can let you sit on the steps and wait for—"

Louis intervenes. The amount of times Lucas was being cut off, made Zayn snigger, evoking some anger out of the two. More with Louis—not allowing him the opportunity to ask who was at their door as he hears the half-suppressed laugh. His eyes flare seeing Zayn at their steps with a smirk on his face. He knew how much Louis hated Rho—liked to take advantage of it.

Zayn hums pessimistically, eyeing fuming Louis with the rest of the house coming at the door. Most distraught with him by the door, a few curious to know who'll pull the first punch. Zayn's hum suddenly became optimistic.

"Hey babe," Zayn sneers when he notices Niall sneaking a quick look over Louis' shoulder. He hates these pet names. He calls Zayn pet names but he never approves of anyone calling him any. "Thanks for meeting me yesterday." A smiled formed from on Zayn's face.

"What the fuck, Niall?" Louis looks over his shoulder with a look of resentment.

"I didn't see him." Niall retaliates with a scowl. "I was supposed to."

"Why's that?" Everyone can hear the sharp hiss off Louis tongue as he questions Niall. All the attention peeled off Zayn, enjoying this Kappa vs Kappa scene.

"Midterm project." Niall drones.

"I admire fraternities." Zayn intrudes, his smile became tight. "The brother's look out for you. So, the choice to be made actually rests with you guys. Allow Niall to work on this midterm assignment with me or not."

"What the hell? Zayn, you're in our territory. I don't know how you can speak so rashly and openly." Louis snarks at him, while Zayn is keeping himself composed.

"I'm an achiever alright? I'm striving to keep my grade the way it is. I don't know if Niall does but I'm positive he might. Maybe even raise it a bit higher." My finger traces down the edge of the door. Sly fuck Zayn is—loved getting them all angry. "I quite despise you Niall, but I need the grade—a more important situated kind of manner than my hatred for you. So do you. So unless your brothers care enough about you graduating, they'd let you work this with me. Let me ask, why didn't you hold your end of the bargain to meet me yesterday?"

"Was busy." Niall whinges. He makes his way right where Lucas is, about a feet away from Zayn as he smiles which was beginning to irritate everyone in the house. "Fuck, ya can't do this rii' now ya know?"

"I need this grade and I'm looking over the high pinnacle of our distaste to each other to gain it. How many times must I explain it to you? I've thought up all thirty questions, you've not completed anything." Zayn lists, forgetting there's an audience behind Niall.

"Me phone stopped working." Niall decides to add in. "... And I actually decided to watch a marathon last night."

"A marathon... So your vulgar pornography?" Zayn's head nods in amusement. "Be at the Heis in ten if you don't mind." He scoffs at Niall, making his way towards their toy gate.

Zayn enjoyed ruining the Kappa's night just by making a simple appearance on their doorstep but he really only wanted to finish this assignment. These interruptions wouldn't have to happen anymore, the texts would stop, and they'd go back to their regular ways—Zayn seeing Niall once and it is only when he's turning to react to his smart ass comments and he sees Zayn's head back during class that he believed looked better than Zayn's face.

Niall huffs, astonished at by his nerves. Zayn's got a handful that he shouldn't be using it all. "I'm in the middle of something that you've made longer."

"I've got other classes." Zayn says flatly.

"Now that's not my problem, baby." Niall lets a smirk take over him just as Zayn leans off the wall.

Zayn hadn't had his hands tremble in such a long time as he began to light his cigarette. It still seemed like a dream to him that Zayn walked up to their door with confidence flourishing like a field of tulips during May. He faced Louis with his household alone—no one with a sense of consciousness does this. He's got a temper just like the Hulk that they'd cast him if he's more submissive to set rules. He didn't even expect Louis to pour some of his temper on Niall for being paired together with him. It's nothing Niall nor Zayn himself can help and it somehow worried him how Louis reprimanded Niall for it.

Maybe he needs cigarettes.

The air is brisk with a good warm and cool contrast for September that encouraged many students to sit out on the patio. Zayn's lucky enough to even get a seat outside and he needs it more than anyone here.

Did any of them face Louis?

Zayn orders about two bottles—finishing one and making his way down to his second. Zayn waits for Niall to come and work with him on this goddamn midterm. And confusion grows in him as the hand on the clock moves to the next tick, trying to complete a whole minute, moving forward with the time just like his anticipation for Niall's arrival. He won't come.

Niall reaches over the ten minute mark, disappointing and enraging him all over again. Zayn should've killed him when he had the chance. Yet, he decided to stay and let the alcohol and cigarettes compel him.

His phone chimes with Harry's name on the screen. His spirits liven a bit for now.

**Pres. Styles:** _For the auction I'm gonna have to have you come up with an idea and work on it. If it's not too much trouble do you also mind coming up with themes for the party I have to propose?_

**Zayn:** _Np harry_

**Pres. Styles:** _Thanks_

No meeting to occupy him but a text of requests. Great. It's not like Harry still pours work on him that he couldn't do. Zayn is open to do anything for Rho but to think of an idea for the Debutant? It's children's work that he can ask a middle schooler to do for him. Harry can't think of themes, really? And Zayn's got the midterm already, and here are more things to worry about.

Niall suddenly hops over the railing, seating himself right in front of Zayn—both anxious and filled with raging temper. Zayn knew he'd come and Zayn keeps his eyes peered onto his phone, trying to test Niall's patience just like he was with him.

Niall's slouched in his seat, legs spread wide, right leg shaking in edginess. He watched him with a disinterested kind of expression as he goes through his phone which would be better over Niall if Harry's text set him off in a bad mood again.

"Ya got me in real trouble," Niall finally speaks up. "Almost suspended me for your stunt."

"Now that's not my problem. Baby." With a sardonic grin on Zayn's face, he mimics Niall.

"Buy me a drink." Niall says inflexibly.

"Toilet water." He proposes.

"No, you have to make up for that stunt." Niall snaps. "I want four rounds."

"I don't have to make up for anything, you do." Zayn chortles. "Kind enough, I'll buy you your fixations, don't worry."

"Thanks." Niall murmurs under his breath. Zayn doesn't believe he'd ever think he'd actually to buy him drinks. Zayn will, just not pints he assumes Niall wants. Zayn know this fucking lads gonna make him run a tab so a pitcher might be fine.

Over the course of the moment that he and Niall had to sit here and actually tolerate the sight of each other, Niall actually did his part of the midterm. Jesus, it was almost a miracle. He's indulged himself in about three glasses of Alexander's and making down his fourth—another fucking pitcher Zayn is sharing with him, wanting to order one more. He's generous enough to even order a second pitcher—knowing he really fucked Niall up with Louis. Zayn is able to wait for Niall to finish his meeting, there was no rush. Except he hated that Niall didn't involve himself in this section of the midterm—it wasn't easy to think of twenty survey questions relating to rush that they start sounding all the same by the 6th question.

On the other hand, Zayn let Niall do a little bit of modifications to them. He was nearly drunk so he doesn't know if he can trust the changes made but he kept quiet, typing away, picking the beer up from time to time. He looks like he knows what he's doing. Even when his cheeks are red.

"Ya did all of dese?" Niall slurs really fast.

"Yup." Zayn shifts gawkily in his seat. 

"They're alrii'." Niall passes him his Mac Book back. "I changed some. Not all."

"Mm'kay..." He replies in discomfort, reading the questions over again for the last time before heading down to the library to copy about 50 of the surveys.

Niall turned restless on his seat and this didn't come overlooked. It may be the alcohol or Niall's nervousness breaking out the longer he sits here with Zayn. It may even be both.

"You okay?" His eyes glance at Niall whose fingers tap rapidly on the end of his arm rest.

"Yeh, sorry." Niall becomes completely still. Too still that Zayn is starting to become suspicious of the lad. Buzzed or actually drunk to the bone?

"We need to pay the library a visit and copy up about fifty of these." Zayn delays his words, eying Niall while stowing his laptop back in his bag.

"Exciting." Niall's eyes gleam, his forefinger taps on the chair again.

"My ideal of fun." He scoffs.

The walk from the Heis to the library could have been quicker and without a hassle if Niall wasn't preoccupied by so much objects on the way. The lad is seeing phenomena around this campus as if he's never seen the fountain that the majority of the campus has to walk by to go to their classes, or the track that many run on. At least he wasn't bugging Zayn about his face or how aggravating he is to him. He might punch him for it and this evening wouldn't end so nicely for the two of them.

"Alright, I've given you twenty of these to give out to students around campus during rush. Kindly and mannered." Zayn hands Niall a moderate stack of papers. "You need to have 20 completed and I'll have 20 too."

He grabs the sheets from him, reading it as if he's never seen these before, like it was made with unicorn hair. And he has—just 10 minutes ago.

"How d'I get these back?" Niall asks with his voice full of wonderment. His eyes gleam at Zayn as he watches him sordidly.

"Grow patience and wait for them to finish and take it back." He glares, in awe of stupidness brought to Zayn by Niall. Did 6 glasses really fuck the lad up?

"I'm so tired." Niall hisses quietly, clutching the sheets.

"You're crumpling it." Zayn says in a monotone voice. "Are you really okay?"

"Not really. It's loud." Niall muffles his ears. Zayn's face grimaces, wanting to point out that the two of them are in the library but it seems like Niall won't listen to reason. Won't listen to him.

Zayn can give less than a rat's ass about Niall's intoxication right now. He can't even walk straight going back to the house if he paid him to. And he's stuck making sure he doesn't walk himself into the fountain and walk right out like it's nothing. Why does Zayn even care? He's only content about Niall putting in effort and not leaving him to do all of it. It's not a lot to fix the grammar and punctuation or add where the bolds and italics belong but he did something for once. He's supposed to anyways—they're partners. They don't have to get along but they do have to finish a midterm that will determine their marks from then on.

Zayn would like to try and get along—at least for a minimum amount of time so the time he's spending with a person he hates isn't as dreadful and straining as being paired with him and fighting all the time. Zayn's no fighter—maybe more like an interrogator.

"God, Louis' gonna—" Niall stops himself, seeing Zayn by his side.

"Mhm, nice." Zayn mutters and nod, eying his phone. There's nothing about Niall to pay attention to.

**Pres. Styles:** _Ideas?_

Harry sends that to Zayn. Does Harry know he has things to do that are more important than the Debutant and Charity? It really is important to him; more than people think so but it’s as if Zayn doesn't have classes—classes that'll set his career after two years.

**Zayn:** _No  
_ _Give me time. It's only been an hour_

"Listen Niall—" Zayn turns to find Niall nowhere in his sight.

The lad must be out of his fucking mind. But Zayn guesses Niall's made his way home in his own way. Probably running or walking the long way but as long as he's getting home. Or somewhere. He's not his responsibility in the first place but wherever he is now, he's far from the loon.

"Gotcha!" Fuck! Niall's cackling behind Zayn almost got him to lose his balance, along with his arms suddenly wrapping around Zayn's neck.

Not quite. Why is Zayn always wrong?

"You're mad!" Zayn's voice rises, evoking more amusement from Niall. "Let go now, I don't want your hold on me." Zayn tries to pull apart Niall's hand. Why's he holding so fucking tight? Zayn is not a big stuffed animal. 

"You're so borin'!" Niall's laugh stifles, holding his grip around him.

"You're a mess, do you see yourself?" He contends. He really reeks of alcohol. "I want you to let go."

"You're not calling me babeh now are ya?" It's really hard to understand Niall with his fucking intonation while slurring all over the place.

"Ohh, you're getting on my nerves." Zayn sheepishly laughs. This isn't funny to him. He can't figure out Niall right now. His face contorts in dissatisfaction as Niall's arms are still around Zayn's neck.

"D'ya see dos stars?" Niall's chin rests on my shoulder and Zayn doesn't bother trying to get the intoxicated lad off him. He was even batting his eyelashes at the sky.

"No, we're near the city; the lights outshine them. I can't see anything at all." Zayn keeps his expression straight, dragging Niall behind him as he continues to walk.

"I see them." Niall's eyes focus towards the dark sky.

"You should count them," Zayn suggest to Niall.

His hold on him quickly vanishes. This doesn't relieve him in any way as Zayn watches Niall settle himself on the grass near the fountain. He lies himself down with his arms behind his head, lips moving without eliciting any words out and all Zayn could think is that he's really out of it. He's in his own universe now and Zayn is many light-years away.

"I-I did not m-mean it literally," Zayn stammers in remorse, standing over Niall.

He's made himself comfortable to the fresh grass and brisk air. Zayn doesn't want to pull him out of his exhilaration. He gazes to the look Niall has on his face just trying to count stars that weren't there. His lips were moving but no words came out. It's almost beautiful how his lips pout and purse when he exaggerates on the words—could be more striking if Zayn didn't hate Niall. He was really into counting the stars that his right eye tightened shut, trying to sharpen his focus with his left forefinger poking at the sky. It seemed funny to hm for a few seconds how indulged Niall is until Zayn saw the curve at the corner of his lips with his and Zayn's almost parting, before he composed himself from the feeling of admiration.

"Louis," Zayn calls him with a lacking spirit.

"Wha' are you doing with Niall's phone?" He growls. And of course, Niall's lied to him the whole time about his phone being broken when it's bulging out his pocket, full battery.

"Take your mate home, would you? He's drunk out of his wits." Zayn disregards the coldness of Louis voice. "We're near the fountain."

"What's he fucking doing? What'd you do to him?" He sneers.

"I. Didn't. Do. Anything. He's intoxicated." Zayn forces the words out.

He's only been endurable through this bullshit of Louis’ and his hostile behaviour. Zayn doesn't know how long he's able to take this snarky attitude of his just for being a part of Rho. Zayn is not even threatening or harming any of them so the understanding of this rivalry is far from his capacity to understand it at all.

"I'd tell you to bring him here but I don't want you anywhere near my house."

"That's quite kind of you. I don't care. Pick him up." Zayn ended the call before Louis was able to make any other arguments against him that he doesn't even need to say.

Nonetheless, Louis' thick head won't get that. Won't get anything at all unless he spells it out for him with wooden pieces. His head's thick as a bolted and locked door for a bank's safe. Nothing will help his mindset unless someone drugs him or put him under hypnosis.

As for the Irish lad with a rare case of lightweight drinking capabilities, he stops his counting of stars and begins his music career through a piece of grass.

"You mind stop blowing that? It's obnoxious." Zayn winces at the buzzing and whistling of the leaf that settled between Niall's fingers. It sounds as if a bee's collaborating with a kazoo.

"Why, ya want me t'blow ya instead?" Niall laughter bursts through the air.

"Cute. Cute..." Zayn shakes his head. "C'mon, stand on your feet."

"You need to chill. If you were way nicer, we wouldn't be stuck, on Sunday, doin' homework!"

"Whatever" Zayn exhales. "I will still despise you."

"We should name our kid, Zanna!" Niall gasps. Zayn hates how Niall tried to make it sound like his name. He would never think to raise a damn child with that guy. "Then you can tell your delightful stories."

Zayn sighs, offering Niall a hand. "I would never choose you in all of my years as my partner, let alone take myself with you to make a union of fortified admiration when all I feel for you is hate. C'mon, up on your feet!"

"Should really take that stick out of your ass. We should date again." Niall strains as he tries pulling himself up with Zayn's hand supporting him. Suppose telling him that was useless since he's intoxicated out of his mind. "You'll buy me drinks again and stargaze—brilliant!"

"Wasn't a date." Zayn tries tugging him up. Niall's weighing himself down through his stubbornness and this was really getting to him. "There are no stars out tonight. It's overcast."

"Y'know what happens on dates?" Zayn tries to ignore the caressing of Niall's thumb on his hand. Zayn tries to ignore Niall's smirk and raised eyebrows as much as possible. Sometimes it sucks to have the habit of looking people in the eye, like Zayn when he talks to people.

Zayn shakes his head, "I'm not interested in—" He suddenly pulls Zayn down to the ground. This'll be the last time he's fucking helping this lad with anything. Abruptly, Niall pushes his mouth on him and Zayn's eyes burgeon wide. This fucking drunk! He was kissing him! Zayn's not supposed to be tasting the drinks he's had. Neither was his hand supposed to be held by his.

"Niall!" Zayn immediately break from the drunk, faster than his mind thought to be. He pulls himself up with Niall who's laughing. This was far from his kind of humour. "I'll fucking obliterate you if you try that obscene shit of yours one more time." Zayn is really anticipating Louis' arrival now. What's taking him so long?

"I give that kiss a 4." Niall hiccups. "You waste those pretty little things on that fucking Styles lad, it's crazy!"

"Now, I've wasted it on you. And it's mortifying." Zayn exhales just as rolls his eyes off to the side, spitting on the ground. Tastes so bitter. Zayn would lick his shoe and it'd taste even better.

"Right, you'd like to spend it right on Harry?" Niall's words rapidly flow out his mouth, causing Zayn's expression to contort in annoyance.

"I'd love to tell you all about my life," like he would. Maybe another day when they actually stop being arseholes to each other. "But Louis' here. I hope to never do this again but we do have to. Not looking forward to it tho—fuckin' wipe!"

The push of Louis shoulder on mine caused him to knock forward. Way to make an entrance, push the fucking lad who's babysitting his vice president. He goes straight to Niall, egging him on to go home, how fun it'd be to go home and walk the way. No it wouldn't—not towards Kappa. That house is the kind of house that people drive by and know that house has got something out of the norm happening in there.

"What were you guys up to? I thought it was just the midterm?" Louis couldn't have made midterm sound any more cynical. He throws his arm around Niall's shoulder with the lad chewing on his nails. Zayn has never seen anyone so jumpy.

"I bought him two pitchers." He replies coolly.

"What happened to the midterm part of the night, hm?" Louis scoffs at him. What the fuck was hard to believe? If he doesn't want to believe what's coming out of his mouth, he can just ask his intoxicated vice president over there. Ignore the lad who still has his senses.

"In his hands." Surprisingly he didn't drop the papers. But he did fold it vertically in the middle and crumpled it a bit.

"Fuck! It's so bright!" Niall drops his phone just as he unlocks it. It'd be worse if he dropped it without the case, then his stupid brick wouldn't be able to work anymore. The name butterfingers lives on.

Zayn couldn't bid a proper goodbye to the two without sounding melancholy and deceiving at the same time. He slipped from the two with a nod and walked away. They wouldn't give him a goodbye anyways and he wouldn't find the two admirable enough to give a genuine farewell so all he's got up his sleeves are 'Ehm, yeah' or 'Ok'. It doesn't feel right to tell them a goodbye by actually including 'bye'. It's more on the funeral atonement if he does and he doesn't think anyone’s dying. Maybe soon, Zayn's delaying his vows.

"Next time!" Niall yells afterwards.

"What the fuck's wrong wid'ya?" Zayn could hear Louis' harsh tone again.

See, it's kind of hard to tell from his point of view the difference between Niall being sober and drunk. Frankly, Zayn sees him acting out a lot like this even without having a drink. He talks this to him all the time and it always ends with Zayn having to ask himself what the hell is going in his head and when this'll all be over.


	2. i think that he knows...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I'm in an art studio. What am I going to do?"
> 
> "Probably make some fucktastic art."
> 
> "What does that even mean? Why do you talk like that?" Zayn drops his pencil when he holds his temple.
> 
> "Talk like what?" Niall asks.
> 
> "Jesus Christ, why am I even speaking to you in the first place?"
> 
> "You really do hold grudges.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol..... this sucks :( but im gonna still keep goin' for the sake of actually finishing something!!!

Rush week begins and Zayn couldn't have waited any longer to lose all his focus from his academics. He knows it's wrong but rush week is all about involving students, making a difference in the school and the community, making a name to set University standards everywhere across the U.S. This week with the number of socializing is just as crucial as the assignments they're supposed to do.

Zayn wishes to take a break from his assignment but this is technically his assignment—to survey rushers and learn what their motivation is. He doesn't want to actually question anybody about this. Everyone hates surveys as much as the next person and being the person giving them out made it all the worse. He held a clipboard with all twenty sheets attached. His plan is to pretend that this is a part of their interview, and not actually trying to survey them even though he is. Hopefully it all works out—Zayn feels as if this'll be a bother to everyone like it is to him.

The 15 of them in Rho tonight decided to take over the Heis for the first night, hosting a 'small' get-together to meet new comers who want to join. Harry using his connections around campus, he’s got about 50 estimated coming tonight for Stella Artola pints and a round of pool. Harry's got all the cash to make Stella Artola pints and shots go around, setting the tab for tonight. 

Thank God. 

The last time they had a get together here, Zayn put it on his tab and his remaining balance was $700.60 from $1,350 and he couldn't even go out for 3 months trying to gain it all back and then some. He works at the school restaurant and at the studio, part-time just making and building stuff for the school. The school depended a lot of the artists and studio workers to decorate and bloom this place with colour. He was far from being an artist—it was merely a hobby. But at the end of the day, half the things he's done weren't so bad. That's why Harry depended on him to make something for the charity auction. But he hasn't been at the studio for a while now. Maybe he got fired for not working for two months, but nonetheless—they never did hate him. They love him—without sounding conceited, they do. Even if he was fired, they'd welcome him with open arms; allow him to work there unpaid.

He better not be fired. This is gonna be one busy fucking week and he needs the cash.

"What's this? Are these your questions?" Harry comes beside Zayn as he leans on the counter. Way to go for Harry to answer a question himself that was directed towards Zayn. "Make sure they don't affect the decisions that some of them will be making."

"It won't." Zayn shakes his head. 

The Heis isn't all that bad now that Indie bands were sent home because of them. The only reason that this place isn't as shit is because Rho's playlist for the night will actually raise spirits and not the dead, considering the amount of Indie music that's been playing here while Zayn stops by sound so dead and melancholy. This whole place has got the real vibes of an actually bar back in the 1920s in New York. Even smells like brandy, cigarettes and cologne. It's stuffy in here too, and all of them had to wear their letters. 

And he can't believe this smart decision of his to decide to wear the long sleeve letter shirt instead of the sweater. Their main colours were black and white—matching the house and all of their uniforms would be black with their letters white. They're called Rho Epsilon but their letters are _PE_ —and it's always given him a second-hand embarrassment when Kappa calls them pee. No, they aren't piss—that's not how anyone even spells it. A normal person would mistake it for _Physical Education._

This place filled like an infirmary during World War I. By the time the clock reached 10 o'clock, this place reeked of beer and chicken wings. There was a pool game going on from one side, a poker game from a table and a dart game at the other side.

He had lost his clipboard somewhere by 9, indulging himself in pints and numerous games of pool against sophomores who had better game than Zayn thought. His vision is halfway gone, seeing another of the eight ball on the pool table. When did that get there?

"Zayn! You've got your last solid still on the table! You can't hit the eight yet!" Leigh yelled in his ear. 

 _Damn it..._ Zayn walked around the table, chalking the stick before fixing his aim on 13. Just like a hawk, he focused on that like his prey. Pool is unbelievably the hardest thing to play with two sticks with the 13 right against the edge near the pocket with the white ball doing the same thing. He'll be too far if he moves to the other side.

Why does he have two sticks? No... That's just Stella doing him dirty.

Leigh wasn't here to rush but she'd be accepted straight into Rho if we they took girls. She was only here for drinks and had nothing else better to do. There were girls here too. Some of them are interested for the games. Fuck, they're fun—especially like right now, when Zayn's got to hit the white ball by having the stick behind his back with no other way to go about.

How was he gonna do this? He has the stability of a giraffe on ice right now so his aim always moved off to the right or down towards the table when it was supposed to be straight on the fucking ball. Zayn had better get something out of this if he gets it in with the stick behind and intoxicated at the same time. 

"If I get this in...!" Zayn yells over the music to Leigh who was just as excited as him to hit this ball. He will hit it. He has got the magic inside him to. "You have to do a tequila shot off my body!"

"Zayn! There's no way—" She shakes her head.

"I-I'm g-gonna get it!" Zayn stammers through his laughter. Shit, his aim moved again.

"C'mon Zayn! You can't make the shot!" His opponent Liam laughed. There's no way to explain his hair; it's just there, a strand hanging over his head, with a beard to accessorize his face. He looks mature, but he has never seen him before. And this fuck was drunk too and he was doing better than Zayn. Why was he being deceived?

His left eye focuses on the ball just as he bites his lip. "Listen—" Zayn prods the stick right dead on centre with all the might he had being position so weird. And—

This massive crowd around the table had the nerve to roar the loudest laugh no one's ever heard in a while until now. And it was about Zayn! It wasn't even for a good reason!

"What t'fuck!" Zayn gestures angrily at the 13 ball. It fucking rebounded back from the corner of the edge to the next just inches away from the pouch. Same spot, just different fucking corners of the edges. And great—the white ball is perfectly aligned with the 8.

"You've set yourself up, mate!" Liam laughs, bending down and aiming at the 8 ball. His arm pulls back and forth with the point of the stick sliding against his thumb.

"Please don't make it!" Zayn exclaims worryingly.

"You wouldn't have made that shot anyways if you were sober." Leigh tells Zayn privately.

"Ehm, thanks!" Zayn scoffs indifferently.

His face suddenly transitions from being one of the happiest campers to being the one that dropped in shit. He watched just as the white ball rolled cleanly towards the 8, knocking it quick and simple into the pocket. The audience chanted the rusher's name. 'Liam! Liam! Liam!' they all went as his arms rose to the air. He was just as drunk as Zayn.

Zayn beckons with his head at the lad, enjoying the moment of reign. "Talk with me, Liam!"

Zayn leaves Leigh to settle herself at the table where she's beginning to attract attention again. Fuck this routine of these guys.

"What classes are you here for?" Zayn makes an attempt to talk over the music. His words are slurring and dragging but his nodding proves that he's doing well over it.

"I'm here for mechanical engineering." Liam replies. Jesus, what the fuck is that?

"Yo'r gonna make time for that and your brothers?" Zayn asks. It's tough a responsibility. 

"Mhm!" He nods. "How is it living with them?"

"Great! It's fun! It's quite an experience!"

"Not like having a real sibling live with you?"

"More orthodox. Yo don't fight with them as much." Zayn replies.

"Can I see the house?"

"We're doing tours all week, drop by, it's no problem."

"Thanks!" He clinks his beer against Zayn's.

Liam left to join other games while Zayn went looking for Leigh who's probably gambling everyone out their pockets. Being alone by the bar made Zayn realize since when did this place have so much people? There was 50 estimated and there seems to be 69 now. Hah, _69_. It's like an ocean and Zayn can't even make his way around without knocking a drink or knocking someone forward. Oh crap, it smells really revolting.

"I'm dying here, Zayn." Ant comes by. "None of the fucking rushers wanna talk to me."

"You're horrendously mortifying that's why," Zayn scoffs.

"Mate, you look like Beetlejuice." He retaliates to him.

"At least I haaave someone saying mah name." Zayn snorts at his comment. Yet again tonight, he wins. Pool isn't counted so Zayn guesses this is the only win he's made.

"No you don't! You're like a virgin, but not a virgin!"

"What?" Zayn was confused.

"Yo! If I join a frat, am I invited to a lot of parties?" This fucking bulky guy comes out of nowhere. Zayn tilts his head at Ant whose eyes bright up but his face contorts into dissatisfaction. Hearing that guy almost forced him to puke out his drinks early tonight.

"Join? What are the chances you'd be accepted? You've gotta make it through the bidding. By your attitude, the fuck you are!" Ant's eyebrows narrow in. Maybe this is why he shouldn't handle things.

"What he means is," Zayn stammers, trying to save Ant from being mucked up by this wannabe jock. "You've gotta realize there is more to being a part of a fraternity than the parties. This isn't yor typical kegs and togas."

"Do I still get to go to parties?" He asks. Fuck, why's he just as ignorant as a fucking cactus?

"No, you're not invited!" Ant bellows.

"T-they come later!" Zayn answers.

"Great, will you bid me in yours? You guys get the hottest girls, y'know."

"We're not here as a fuckin' brothel." Ant bellows again. The fact that this guy is disregarding all of Ant's obnoxious but true answers is making Zayn wonder what his breaking point is. He looks like he's taken about 10 steroid shots. He can pound the two of them like the fucking currency if he wants. And Zayn wasn't here to start any fights.

"Fraternities aren't about the girls," fucking pig. "If you come to the tours, we'll show you the house and what we do." Zayn really doesn't want him inside their house at all.

"Great!" He cheers in a gruffly voice. "Can't wait!" And he runs right off to the pool table, yelling and bombarding.

Ant looks at Zayn with the worse expression he's ever seen lately. Looks like he's dying with a case of malaria and pneumonia all combined together. He should understand the professionalism that comes behind Rho when they talk to rushers but he's only been here for two years and last year wasn't the best one yet.

Everyone somehow wants to join their Fraternity but they couldn't accept everyone if they're not who they want. Clearly he's not what they want for the house but they're encouraged to invite those for common courtesy. Even if they're the worst people they've talked to, they're still eligible for the tour. They might not even make it into the bid as they think.

Or Kappa makes use of them.

"How are you?" Harry throws his arm around Zayn.

"I wanna leave!" Zayn shouts over the music. It sucks how he can't, this place is too much for him. He looks at Harry and there's about two of him. Shit, shit, shit. Zayn's not gonna like this.

"This is our night, Zayn. You can't leave." Harry swallows down a shot. His eyes tighten shut, knowing the burning feeling down his throat.

"I-I gotta work on the charity idea." Zayn stammers. Shit, what is he doing?"

"Wha' is it?" Harry exhales.

"Life-size figure... Of-of... Iron Man." Like he can fucking make that.

"Wha's so special about it?" Harry's suddenly interested now.

"It lights from the eyes, his hands and chest? Just like the real one!" Zayn is very confident for someone who can't even talk properly right now.

"We can auction about $700 with that." Harry nods to himself. "Can you really make it happen?"

"Sure. Yah!" 

Zayn is a joke. He's not certain at all. He doesn't think it'll look like Iron Man or be the life-sized version. He doesn't even know why he's telling Harry this kind of idea—adults that involve themselves in the auction won't bid for an action figure that lights up. Nonetheless, it's all for charity and people have to buy it.

Harry asks about the debutant too. Zayn doesn't have a good mind to come up with that because he can't seem to find the care in the world for what the theme should be. It was about meeting the new brothers and sisters. The theme makes it all fun for them but that wasn't the whole point of the debutant. Zayn will give him a theme, sure. It won't be a thought-out theme. Unless he could count 10 seconds of thinking as one.

"Li'l Merh-maid."

"Are you out of your fucking mind?" Harry laughs.

"Maybe! You asked me to come up with an idea after all!"

"How about this?" Leigh shakes her finger at the two of them. "Do the thing with the masks. All of you guys are fake anyways."

"Your girlfriend has a big mouth." Harry snorts with Leigh glaring at him. "Can I shut it up?"

"Knowin' you—no. Get off her case Harry, what d'ya think about her idea?"

"Great, let's see if the rest of them would like it." Harry grins at Leigh. "It's also better than Little Mermaid anyway."

Harry let Zayn leave the hell hole that was their first party of the year. He can't recall where his clipboard is now but he guesses he's got to print out a new set and actually pass them the survey instead of ask it himself. He's stressing for no reason at all because he knows Niall won't be getting those surveys filled until Friday. If he can lay back on the midterm then so can Zayn.

The walk from the Heis is tougher than Zayn thought going back home. His leg kept vibrating for some reason and he didn't know how to stop it. It kept buzzing and buzzing like he's got bees inside his legs. This wasn't the effect of alcohol is it? It's not. Zayn didn't read about this.

Without the noise and company everywhere he turned left and right, he could finally think carefully and clearly without somebody's influence on him. With the biggest party happening at Heis right now, the campus is quite empty. There are a few joggers passing by, students walking by, and there he was—trying to follow the line of the bike path.

Things have changed since first and second year. Out less frequently now, he's not sure whether to blame it on maturity or the heavy midterm for Psych class. He should be grateful maturity got to him early on in his life. It's better in his third year than fourth where he's still drinking his life away just to piss it all out before bed.

The companies he had, the really late nights, bad dates—it didn't really stop. The sex with Harry was still there, and the dating did eventually stop if his sexual affairs with Harry continue. After his past few affairs, he's glad life has slowed down for him—he couldn't even fathom what life would look like right now if he still went around. That kind of image should be one everyone looked to. Instead, it just ruined Rho's and his, and it's taken him a lot to even stay and stand his ground. Although Rho never decided that the scandal was bad for them, Zayn couldn't continue to treat this university like forbidden fruit to harvest freely—not if his father is one of the active alumni of Rho. Now his name needs to be free of heavy scandals that could affect his father.

There hasn't been any trouble from his end for four months now. Just Harry, but no one calls him trouble. The biggest trouble he's always been in is being late. It can't equate to Zayn's video.

—

With the toilets of the house occupied of puking lightweights, Zayn makes breakfast for himself. Except Eggsy, the international student from London. Zayn's always wondered what he thinks about living life in Oregon since they haven't had a proper conversation outside meetings.

"It's the same, goddamn thing." Eggsy grumbles distastefully, forcing a laugh from Zayn while he leans against the counter, waiting for his eggs to cook both sides.

"It rains all the time. It's fall now so that means there's more fucking rain." Eggsy shrugs. He adds a grin Zayn braces himself to. "At least everyone's good lookin' with proper teeth, I reckon."

"That's not much of a perk from here." Zayn decides that with everyone sleeping in and puking, he'll serve Eggsy breakfast too. And Eggsy with eggs and toast should crack a laugh but Zayn decides not to push anything. His real name is Greg but Eggsy totally fits him.

"You think they're hot, most of us think we all look like shit." Zayn's seen the faces one too many times, know the personalities of these faces and it isn't an exciting thing to get with. It doesn't excuse the fact that even international students such as the few in his Psych class aren't hot.

"You can't say that." Eggsy throws his arm up towards him. "You looked like that guy—from Full House or, whatnot. Prettier even."

"Thanks. But I know a guy who thinks I'm ugly. Or so at least I think his hate resonates to my ugliness, I don't know." Zayn shrugs.

"Guessing the hate is coming from somebody from Kappa." Eggsy goes to the fresh pot of coffee that Zayn was kind enough to set up the morning. He already had his hangover, and he's still fighting through it. But it was that or a grumbling stomach, and he might as well help himself through the hangover with eggs and toast.

"Don't mention that name." Zayn joins him at the table. "They could hear it from a mile away. The next thing we know, our stairs outside is full of grease."

"What really happened?" He asks, and Zayn nearly drops his fork on his plate if he wasn't stoic. "'Cus Louis leaving because of Harry's annoying habit of being awake at 6 isn't exactly convincing." 

The rival between Kappa and Epsilon was never a real rivalry up until last year. Ever since 1852, their rivals were only in the Olympics and Rush week. Who won the most medals, who had more pledges that year was their kind of rival. It evolved to something bigger than the Olympics and Rush week.

It was between Harry and Kappa's newly elected president, Louis. He was one of the members of the social chair along with Zayn and a few members. He had a lot to say—a mouth that never stopped—that never approved of what Harry was suggesting to implement for Rho. More judgement than a helping hand from Louis, really. By this time, Harry's been president for at least three months and he was only in his second year which seemed to impress a lot of people. Louis was in his third year so whatever this social chair had to say, everyone ignored it. 

"Louis called a meeting with the executives to overthrow Harry." Zayn explains. His voice is quiet enough just for the both of them to hear but it was as if Zayn was being watched by Harry right on his shoulder. 

"No wonder Rho was all over the school news last year." Smart enough to catch on, Eggsy moved in closer and whispered.

"I-I haven't quite understood it to this day." Zayn shrugs weakly. "It doesn't matter anyway."

Of course it does. It has only been so many years since this all erupted, and not a single person has been trying to fix it. Everyone has chosen which side they wanna be in. Franky, Zayn's only in Rho for his father's contentment. But then again, his loyalty lies with Harry too.

A few of the guys come downstairs, still in their pajamas. Zayn gets a few hits on him as to why breakfast was never made for them, but he only shrugged, sipped his coffee before Harry came down, rubbing his eyes. Like a squirrel that this house is, Harry scams a forkful of Zayn's eggs and a two bites out of his toast.

"Sharing is caring." Harry grumbles, cheeks full. 

"Yeah, well..." Zayn exhales, letting his eyebrows quirk up.

"Don't be late today." Harry announces. "We've got open house throughout this week. Me and Zayn will start it off. The rest of you take pointers."

"Is there a schedule for who should be at the house at exactly what hour?" Jordan asks.

"Zayn's got you covered."

Zayn's always got everyone covered. He pulls the ten-fold piece of paper in his pocket, flattening the creases with the palm of his hand. "Over the course of this weekend—as Harry said—we will start it off at 6 o'clock. House needs to be clean by 5. Eggsy and Jordan are in charge of clean up. Anyone who is late, gets points docked off. It'll last up to 7, and that is when everyone needs to leave. For tomorrow, Ben and Anthony are up for 1 o'clock to 2. By 12, this house needs to be cleaned up. Sunday—same time as tomorrow, me and Harry will close to end the open house.”

“What do we do during the hour?” The newest member asks. His name is Carter and he majors in Kinesiology & Phys Ed.

“For those who remember last year, we went around getting to know you. That’s what you’re going to do as well. Then you’re going to remember those people, and bid them. Talk to them about their studies and academics, sports even, interests. Make them feel like they need to be here.” Zayn sips his coffee for a few seconds. He does a double-take at Harry chewing on the last bite of his eggs. “Avoid the topic of parties and girls—we don't need those type of people in here. Then we’re going to end the night with a few drinks and loud music.”

“You mean a party?” Ant snorts quietly, his hand covering his nose.

“Yep!” Zayn pops the ‘p’with a smug grin. “Everyone’s involved with clean up! No but’s. If you have an early class, you’ll only be on for half an hour.”

Suddenly the whole kitchen is groaning and yelling at Harry. In his spot, Zayn continues to sip his coffee, waiting for a whole minute to pass before he looks up at Eggsy who’s laughing at him.

Zayn bids his farewell to Eggsy knowing his presence won’t be missed. He’s got work in two hours and the last thing he wants is to take a shower in the same bathroom 6 boys have puked in while the other 5 went to the other bathroom to puke in the other one. The next one closest to him would be Leigh’s and he’ll be there in less than 10 minutes.

Her bathroom smells like Christmas. While he scrubs his hair in, he can just smell the shampoo of apple and peppermint. The bathroom in their house smells like five day old McDonald's fries.

Speaking of McDonalds—O'Den's just happens to be Zayn's new job on campus. He wasn't let go from the studio; it just wasn't giving him a constant trail of money into his bank. Every once in a while, art buyers drop money—it could be $200, it could be $300. It wasn't enough to keep Zayn going with this one job. 

It was a diner that was known for its home-cooked, comfort food meals. It involved a lot of gravy and biscuits being spilled on the table. He likes being the waiter since it involves tips, but the feeling suddenly flushed out when Horan sat down with his date. Who knew he was up before 3 o'clock?

All the servers were occupied, and it seems like tips are running short this morning. It'll run shorter serving Niall.

He held his breath, counted up to 10 so his balloon doesn't blow up all of the sudden and pop before he gets to their table. From where he's standing, his date actually likes him—actually laughing with him. That's totally fucking new.

"Hey, any drinks to start with?" Zayn sets down the menus, thumb drumming against the edge of the table. Niall's eyes suddenly blew out, and there's the obnoxious laugh he was waiting for.

"Awful seeing you here," Niall he blinks up at him. Zayn grins tighter. "I'll take water—with ice and lemon. Not too much ice that I'm drinking the ice, you know?"

"Uh, yeah." Zayn sighs, then he looks up to his date. She looks familiar—she might be in Zayn's English class.

"Orange Pekoe for me. Thank you." She smiles.

Zayn heads straight to the back, almost neglecting the order of drinks. Oh, the feeling of spitting in his drink—it's thrilling. But he fills the glass with ice instead, pressing a lemon on the rim of the glass before he fills the water up. 

The hour doesn't feel so bad. It's hard to pretend Niall exists right now when Niall asks him for missing utensils and sauces every minute of his uneventful life that he doesn't even use. But Zayn's alright. He's picked up $12 in tips in the last hour. 

"Cash or debit?" Zayn grumbles at the counter, glaring at Niall as he takes out his wallet.

"Cash." Niall replies without even looking up. "Heard you guys had a rough night yesterday."

"It was great." Zayn looks out the window, hoping this all finishes faster than the clock says it to be.

"Obviously the assignment is left untouched?" Niall hands him the bills. 

"Obviously you know better than to speak with me." Zayn slides him his change and receipt. "Three sixty is your change. Have a great day."

"Yes I do, but it pisses you off and your anger is my happiness." Niall chuckles. "As for Sunday, please don't plan our murder. We're all friends. The last thing we really need at Theta's party is blood."

"Have a great day." Zayn reminds him louder.

And yet, just like he expected but never really anticipated.

"What the _fuck_?" He slaps the tip tray down on the counter. Fucking empty.

—

He shouldn't have been all that furious. Zero tip happens, it isn't new to him. It just reminds him  how much of a cruel world he lives in. Often, he tries to hold back on sabotaging the no-tip tippers' orders. To shower their face afterwards is a joke even. His anger can peek out, and he could use a cigarette to smoke it all away. But it would need a whole pack before he considers himself stable. 

He should've been home by now to take up the shift of the tours at home. Zayn's doing the first tours with Harry and he's not too excited about letting people wander around the house and sitting and talking. Now it seems like he shouldn't have joined fraternities if he doesn't want to involve himself like this. He just means as VP. Last year, he was just social chair—making events for the house. Now he's got all the pressure on his back, picking up after the President.

His eyes grow big at his watch. He's very late. 

He's sprinting across campus to the house—half speed-walking—and with these fucking lungs, he can drop dead right now. He's burning inside and he has to because it's his fault. He didn't get elected as Rho's VP to be fucking late for the most crucial events that Rho's holding. Suddenly, he's forgetting his fucking responsibilities as soon as this midterm and new job comes along. He thought he was going to be able to make time for both and everything else between. He can't believe he's fucking up.

Just as he barges in, Harry's doing a presentation in their living room on their Chapter—comparing Rho to Kappa and how the two houses are different and alike. They tried to avoid the terrible remarks. His expression was definitely not one Zayn wanted to see as Harry stopped in the middle of his sentence to greet him in front of the dozens of rushers in here as the Vice President of Rho Epsilon.

Everyone's eyes stared at him with his cheeks suddenly bleeding red at the embarrassment. Harry's got this darkened expression on him and all he wants to do now is exit this house and do something else and not face this awkward state that he's in.

"S-sorry," Zayn breathes out, leaning his bag on the wall before coming in front of the audience with Harry who's eyes certainly haven't lifted on him. "As Harry was saying, Rho's definitely more traditional than Kappa. We're one of the oldest Chapter's that's been existing since 1852, still keeping the traditions that's made us recognized today as one of the most hard-working, successful, reliant chapters in the West Coast."

Where the fuck did that come from?

Some nods came from the audience. He can safely assume he's doing better than he thought. He's actually still speaking English. "We believe in expanding our ideas, accepting new ones to innovate Rho to become better than before. We strive to be at the top, recruiting members that believe in the same principle as us, thinking for the school and for the community before ourselves."

At least it was good to see some familiar faces come like Liam and that son of a bitch bulky lad from yesterday. The others must be from the other brothers' chat yesterday.

Harry starts speaking this time, relieving Zayn of his shaking hands. "We also never lean away from our work. It's important that we always stay on task of our academic learning while working between the lines of helping your Fraternity and the rest of the Chapters. Explains why our Vice President, Zayn has come late—not per usual."

Apparently, Zayn can't fucking understand the consequences of being late. Except Harry should know to let it go until later when everyone's gone and handle it responsibly with him.

He continues, "Rho Epsilon takes rules very seriously, and every brother of this house is very acquainted to it. We're not very tolerable towards any foul behaviour that may damage the well-being of fraternity or the Chapters."

A complete lie—they've been at battle with Kappa for the longest time.

"The social activities, the majority of you guys are looking forward to, come throughout the years for being in the brotherhood." Some of them suddenly straightened up in their seats just as Zayn opened his mouth about this. "We base ourselves in tradition, as we've said already. This means we stray from certain types of social activities. We avoid binge drinking so there's none of those kegs you might be excited to chug down. We keep things simple in this Chapter but we still throw some social occasions every now and then. Some may involve the other Chapters, some may just be between us and the whole school. Aside from the others, they do happen. There's _no_ doubt, but that's not what Rho stands for."

"If you think that's how Fraternities go about, I suggest you not even take part in Rush at all." Harry shrugs. Suddenly the faces of rusher's turn bleak and worried, turning their heads to each other before turning back. They can't speak for Kappa.

Zayn clears his throat before taking after Harry. "From the moment you've been taken as a pledge of a Chapter, they become your family. You do not resolve any of your issues to anyone outside of the Fraternity unless you've put the _same_ amount of trust into them as much into your family. They're there for _you_ , and you're there for them. You depend on each other to grow, and you never turn your back on them. Realize the importance of the connection between your brothers. Get your _fucking_ head out from the parties and dates, and engrave this into your mind that at the end of the day, those parties will not be as important to you as your brothers when you're gone from school and starting a new chapter of your life."

Zayn exhales immediately after finishing, before turning to Harry who's been staring at the whole time with his jaw almost dropping. He throws a thumbs up before turning to the crowd who's in awe as just as he is. What the hell did he even say? Those words just came out of his mouth like nothing. His head didn't even take time to process what he preached out but seeing everyone's face and the whiteness of their eyes, it must've been something quite memorable.

Harry stammers, shaking his head, "A-and we're confident that Rho could be the one to make your 4 years here count. Goodnight everybody!" He roars right after, relieving some from the shock of what is Rho. "Please feel free to roam. Refrain from entering the rooms with 'Turn Back!' tags and spilling your drinks."

That has been the longest hour of his entire life. His hands are shaking as if they've just been dipped in Arctic waters and his cheeks are still burning, getting hotter and hotter each second just looking at the dozen and a half that's been in here.

Liam gives a thumbs up Zayn's way just before making his way around the house with his friends. It must mean he's done well. Too well, now that everyone's trying to chat Harry and Zayn up about Rho. Standing there being shoved with questions about the Chapter and schmoozes guaranteed this year's going to be way better than last year's fiasco. If they recruit this much people that attended because of what Zayn had rambled under pressure, he thinks he'll vomit.

"Fucking hell Zayn!" Harry hisses once the house emptied after an hour. Now they were just lounging in the living. He's still trying to process his thoughts as well. "What was _that_?"

"I-I don't even know." Zayn shrugs. His fingers begin to play with his lips.

"This might be the year we might actually recruit so much that we won't have any rooms left." Harry laughs. He lays his hand out for a high five which Zayn smacks before going back to playing with his lips again under nervousness. 

There's about 25 rooms in this goddamn house. 15 occupied, 10 eligible to live here. This is claustrophobic.

"As for you arriving late," Harry begins. "I've gotta write it up. For your penalty—you've got pool clean-up."

"Alright," He sighs to it. Such a small reason to give a big job to.

"There's something I've been meaning to talk to you. It's about that Neil kid." Zayn was waiting for a pause but he completely went straight to it. "You've been acting indefinitely odd since you've been working with him. Even been very close lately."

"Close as in..."

"I haven't put my finger on it but you're late because of him, aren't you?" Harry grins, patting his back. If Harry knew his schedule, he was working. "Listen, I don't care whether you fuck him or not, don't let this partnership on this midterm screw your place here."

"What ever do you mean?" Zayn was only late because of work.

"You're screwing with me now, Zayn. I don't like it. Need I remind you your place in this house? You got elected for that reason up there. Don't you dare show to our brothers that you're a mistake for VP."

"A fucking mistake?" Zayn snorts, pulling himself up from the couch. "Alright, I'm gonna let you keep that comment."

Yeah, pool duty. Maybe at 3 am when he's not around when everyone's awake and he's not being a fucking bad VP. He's not going to agree with Harry as much as Zayn is feeling the guilt inside push him into saying he is. He wises he can call himself a shit Vice President but he doesn't believe he is if he's able to bring in 10 recruitments into this house. And it's been such a long time since 2013 that Rho's going to have the whole house's rooms filled. He doesn't see how Harry pulled anybody in when he barely spoke about anything when he came along into the meeting. Zayn can't find himself to give a fuck to wonder what went on before he came in—everyone's expression was dead when he entered, meaning nothing hyped was going on.

He is giving up.

The Art studio's closed by the time he got here. All the lights are closed except the ones shining on the artwork some of the artists have done. Thank goodness, his key actually still fits in. He's hoping he's still able to work here. It's not his fault he hasn't gotten any projects or shifts—maybe he should ask for some. How should he know what they want? They keep him in the shadows. 

He got up to the workspace they assigned to him. It's fairly big but not as big compared to the others—about a square feet bigger. He's still good with this space. He's able to move around this place and get things done. It's a problem if he doesn't. 

He rolls out about two feet of paper on the ground, grabbing two meter rulers and a pencil by the shelf before lying himself on the floor to breathe. Then he rolls himself on his stomach, prompting himself up with his arms and knees. Somehow, a way to get space from Harry is to fulfill his wishes for the charity drive by starting the life-model sketch of Iron Man.

"Fuck, Niall—what is it that you want?" Zayn groans. At the worst time, this lad decides to ring him up.

"Okay, uhm—I'll talk t'ya tomorrow then." He grumbles.

"Don't hang up. I did not answer you to talk for a minute about hanging up." Zayn rubs his face. This is why he had to get away. "What do you want?"

"I'm just callin' to tell ya I've got all twenty surveys done." He brags, and Zayn can just see the proud smirk on his face.

"You're a quick worker." Zayn presses the phone against his ear and cheek, starting the light press of his pencil beside the measures of the ruler against the paper.

"I'm a lot of things you haven't figured out yet." His tone deigns.

Zayn would say he's tired of his cocky attitude but Zayn can fairly deny that he is too. It cuts down the awkward silences and there hasn't been considering he's known him for 3 years. Always has been like this—always distracting Zayn from punching his face in.

"Who says I'm even trying to stray myself from you?" Zayn stares off to the side, caught off guard before starting on the paper again.

"This is just between the two of us, Zayn. You're not kiddin' anybody."

"I see you still believe I'm hiding some sort of affectionate feelings towards you?" Zayn scoffs. "Listen, if I liked you, I would've made it known to you how I feel about you. I haven't and I don't believe I will."

"I think they've got treatment for denial." He laughs.

"You're wasting my time." Zayn grins weakly. He's not able to see it.

He sighs. "Alright fine. I'm just wonderin' when we should start analyzin' the survey answers."

Zayn stammers in thought. This week's already been hectic and it's only Saturday tomorrow. He's got Harry marked as one of the biggest assholes right now that he wants to avoid. He doesn't think he's able to once he goes back into the house after tonight. And truth be told—

"I-I haven't exactly got them all back."

"What do you mean?"

"I lost them last night."

"Are you fucking joking?"

"I'm not in the mood." Zayn nearly ripping through the paper with his pencil. "Call me all the derogatory names you want. I'll do it all before Monday and get my results to you before then."

"Look who's slacking." Niall laughs through the phone.

"Niall, I swear to god—"

"What happened, _Mr. Wilson_?" Niall purrs. Zayn can't tell if he's joking or not. He barely knows him well to say if he is or not.

"It's nothing."

"I mean, it's not ideal, but I'll make you feel better."

Zayn clenches his phone. "That's not funny." 

"No, I swear I didn't mean it like that." Niall apologizes faster than Zayn expected. News must have travelled fast about that tape. "You're obviously not in the right mind. I feel like you're about to do something stupid."

"I'm in an art studio. What am I going to do?"

"Probably make some fucktastic art."

"What does that even mean? Why do you talk like that?" Zayn drops his pencil when he holds his temple.

"Talk like what?" Niall asks.

"Jesus Christ, why am I even speaking to you in the first place?"

"You really do hold grudges.”

Of course he does.

Zayn remembers when he met Niall in orientation—obnoxious, foreign, and just as annoying now as he is. He will admit mentally, he's just as attractive and yet, still offering that sad feeling when people see him around campus. Nothing's changed between him from 18 and now, 21. Maybe height but just by half an inch, Zayn guesses. He doesn't know, he doesn't keep tabs. His hair hass changed variously—that's all he can say. It was all dark brown first, then blonde all over except the sides, then he let his roots contrast the blonde so his hair looks dirty now. It's always changing. Zayn would think it's not but it is. Anyone can always say, _'there's something different about you today!'_ And it'll always be his hair or hats or shoes. 

The fucking boy's an enthusiast on fitted's and sneakers and sportswear, always trying to get Nike's latest or Air's or J's. He's got a collection somewhere hidden of his hats, and it's different teams—baseball, hockey, basketball, soccer. Not like he supports any teams at all but European Football teams but they don't make caps. He might like it for colour, might like it for the logos but none of them could actually care for those American teams. He's even got baseball jerseys from popular Little Leagues? Whatever they're called, and official baseball teams such as Pirates and the fucking Red Sox? 

Zayn doesn't care.

Zayn has got some love for Nike and J's but this boy lusts for shoes. It's unreal. He's got J's going from 3 to 23. Some of them are fucking ugly, he's not going to deny it. And then he’s got boots and converses and he'll just buy and but and maybe wear a few once a month, once an occasion.

Anyways, the lad was always asking questions through orientation like they weren't going to fucking learn about it after two minutes he's been told to shut up and blatantly ignored.

Then they got paired for this orientation activity. Now at that time, Zayn never knew he was a douchebag like today so he introduced himself like any other fucking normal socialist. Not that Zayn was some expert—he was advised to get out of his comfort zone as soon as he came to University. Zayn's reaction to the offered hand was to shake it. He wish his behaviour was like that today. And the University had some kind of trust activity they planned for the everyone because they're all family at that point now, they said. Zayn wasn't to thrilled but hey, try new things! It's University! Great 4 years of your life!

Yeah right, great 4 years of paying that stupid shit called tuition.

They led everyone to the woods of the school and fuck—Zayn swears it was some kind of folklore trees. The end of the branches looked like the point of knives. The foliage of the forest was thick so people wouldn't be able to see where it'd end and the height of the tree was just about as an apple tree so people were prone to hitting their head on a branch. The terrain was fine—good to walk over without issues. It was the hill that worried them. Trees were slopping down with the hill and it was an 8 on the scale of 1-10, of how steep it was. And they had to go down blindfolded.

Naive little Zayn volunteered to have his eyes cloaked over a black type of cloth. He gave his trust to Niall to lead him down that valley of suicide because he wasn't interested in dying by smashing his neck against the rough bark branch.

It was gonna be fun.

If someone's partner actually fucking lead them through without any distractions or issues.

Niall was supposed to hold Zayn by the shoulder and lead him from behind through the jagged woods. And he did. Zayn guesses he gets a medal and all—made out of tin.

He'd actually get a real gold one if he didn't shove Zayn, suddenly pull him back and push him against the tree, which wasn't supposed to be the task. He was supposed to stay fine. 

It was summer and he wasn't wearing any long sleeves. His shirt was thin but not enough to be ripped. Just about enough to be poked through enough that his skin was bleeding against the jagged bark and branches. Along with his arms, they had several scratches that had to be covered with large patches of bandages afterwards. And all that pulling and pushing, that was for his protecting, not even Zayn's. He also got a whiplash when he pulled him back because of a fucking snake on the grass.

And Zayn felt no more than relieved after conquering hell that they were close to the bottom of the hill and he couldn't be more than happy until Niall let him trip over a rock, knocking him down with him following behind, ready to bash his body down. Zayn was like tumble weed rolling down to the group. They were last and fucking rolling down like it was the highway. Niall stopped halfway and Zayn knew he did because he heard him laughing, allowing him to somersault down.

He got sent to the infirmary that day with Niall who just kept laughing and laughing about how funny he looked like making his way to the bottom of the hill while icing his face. He even remixed that song _A Thousand Miles_ , going:

 _"Making my way down hill, rolling fast, face is smashed, and I'm homebound!"_ Cuing the imitation of the catchy short piano instrumental.

Then he finally began the small talk that led them where they are today. He remembers his first sentence, _“You’re really quite stupid aren’t ya?"_  

Zayn cawed in a laughter—most sarcastic one he's done yet towards him who snorted at him with a smile before he turned back scoffing to himself.

This was to him, the beginning of their acquaintance. This was to Zayn, the beginning of hell—for all of the things he's done.

“I’m busy, Niall. Thanks for asking but, I’m gonna pass.” Zayn stood up from his spot, looking at the outline he made. It looks like shit.

“Don’t forget the assignment.” Niall warned.

How could he?

—

Getting along in one house with four chapters should have been easy. With Theta Zeta hosting, everybody on campus knew they were sisters with Nu Omicron. That’s a ton of sisterhood, yet they get along so very well that they’re the epitome of a friendship around this campus.

In the whole entire night that all four chapters are having together, it was divided into two. Kappa and Rho tried with every bit of their business and gut not to wander anywhere near each other. If Kappa hung around the drinks, Rho would stick around anywhere but the drinks—accept their thirst for another half an hour before Kappa really leaves.

Where loyalty lies, so did Zayn. And the loyalty was killing Nu Omicron and Theta—including him. Even the sisterhoods of sisterhoods divided in two just to entertain the two fraternities. It was ten elephants put into one living room—that awkward for everyone. The only one meeting halfway is Lucas and Jordan at the ping pong table. Zayn will commend Theta for their very entertaining playlist tonight. All in all, at least Zayn finished with the surveys. They're all tucked in his back pocket.

Suddenly, Zayn grimaces at his view of a middle finger shooting right up at his line of sight. It quickly disappears into their pocket, and Zayn’s eyes trail up to the one and only.

In a flash, Zayn goes into the next room, joining Jordan at the ping pong table where Niall’s standing at the other end with Lucas, taking the last free paddle. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Zayn glares, eyes like daggers when he stares up at Niall, words snapping out from his tongue like a serpent.

“M-me?” Jordan's nonplussed, gawking for Zayn’s immediate answer. Niall on the other side, scoffing at Zayn's abruptness.

“No! Sorry, Jordan.” Zayn apologies right away, holding Jordan's shoulder arm. Then he directs his attention right to Niall. He’s smirking at Zayn, holding the ping pong ball in his hand with the paddle in the other.

“Can we play?” Lucas scoffs—mostly directing his attitude towards Zayn.

Niall serves to Jordan, passing the ball over the net back to Lucas. In a single tap, the ball bounces towards Jordan and Zayn's left at the side, impatiently waiting for the ball to come. To him, the game wasn't really important.

"Oh shit." Lucas curses under his breath.

This time, Zayn gets to serve and he serves to Lucas, and the ball bounces towards him. He taps it forward to Jordan before the second bounce.

"You get on my last nerves, Niall." Zayn sighs, saving the ball before it bounces off the corner of the table.

"Finish the assignment?" Niall laughs huskily. Zayn really hates him.

"Seems like you doubt me." Zayn reaches for his back pocket, hoping the pat of the paper was proof enough.

"I shouldn't?" Niall asks sarcastically.

"No offence, but this was really fun before you two joined in. Now we're talking about midterms... Really?" Jordan's laugh shakes and that's when Zayn drops his paddle.

"I'm just trying spend my minutes wisely before I leave." Zayn looks at his watch. It's half pass eleven and Rho got here at ten. Zayn doesn't want to be the one to leave early, really. But there are assignments in his pockets that need thorough analyzing and his partner who's physically not doing anything to Zayn, and somehow, he's scaring Zayn into doing this fifth part of the assignment.

Zayn forgets about skewering Niall for his blatant middle finger gesture, heading to the living room  to join the few members of Rho and Theta. Harry's sitting at a seat around the circular table, laughing at a joke they're all sharing between them in their game of poker.

"I'm heading out." Zayn grips Harry's shoulder. Then he smiles at one of the members of Nu Omicron, Jesy. "Thanks Nu." 

"Havin' a good night, Zayn?" Jesy asks, suggesting something through the wiggle of her eyebrow that makes Zayn shake his head.

"No, I'm not going home with anybody." Zayn laughs timidly because he can and he won't. "Taking the dating game slow."

"Must be like a tortoise." Jade, Nu's President, frowns playfully and smiles again. "Alex was an asshole, Zayn. Don't blame yourself for the tape. It's 2015, it's not a big deal, alright?"

Zayn hasn't blamed himself for a while, and he's trying all he can not to. It was stupid to trust his ex Alex who he had dated from first year to the second semester of his second year. Maybe, he actually had a good reason to trust him and it blew up in his face. Harry did tell him not to date seniors. At least Alex was gone—nothing of him was haunting him. Except, somewhere in the internet, the video of Zayn's first time is circulating.

Zayn left the house with pretty heavy images that brought him back to the past. It's 2012, and Zayn grabbed the attention of music major Alex, fourth year. Guess musicians really do have a reputation for being massive dicks. His skin was like bronze, his hair dark and buzzed, and very mesmerizing brown eyes. He had a very charming smile Zayn tried not to fluster to. Even today, he could remember how he smelled and how his voice flowed so heavily. And it fucked him over like Winona and Johnny Depp.

He pulls the survey sheets from his back pocket, skimming through the answers and information they've all written down. Maybe it was the flashbacks or music, but Zayn could swear he was hearing someone calling his name.

"What the hell?" Zayn turns to look back, learning that it's the obnoxious tyrant tailing him.

"Here." Niall hands him a pile of papers. 

"I'm not analyzing your surveys too." Zayn doesn't accept the sheets of paper Niall's hand holds out for him.

"No, you idiot. I just don't think it's fair that you leave the party early to work on our midterm."

"Since when did you care about fairness?" Zayn laughs. He's still not taking the survey sheets from Niall. 

"I'm just trying to fucking help you out." Niall scoffs, his face tightening in annoyance. His arm gives up, and he continues to hold the sheets by his side.

"I appreciate it." Somewhat. "I just think it'll be faster if I do my part, you do yours." 

"The analyzation can't really be divided into two sets." Niall sighs. "I'll help you out this one time. To make up for—yeah." Right away, he looks somewhere else.

What's there to make up? Was it the middle finger or the zero tip? Maybe it was the teasing that he did through text. Niall's got a lot to make do to make up every bit of his fault in Zayn's life. It was an occasion that happened more than once.

There was nobody in the library but them. It was even silent between them like nobody was in there that even Zayn forgot to breathe sometimes. In a way, he was correct about not needing Niall's help. They didn't even talk about their answers and for once, Zayn was actually looking forward to it. 

If he was learning anything from this part of the assignment, it's that Niall is a thorough reader who can find a lot of information from just one answer and expand on it. From one page, he's got about seven paragraphs as his analyzation. Five more than what Zayn's got from three pages. 

So he calls his break earlier than he expected on himself. Zayn yawns, stretching his arms out before he got out of his seat to stretch his legs out. Funny, it's only been forty five minutes.

Despite his arrogance, which Zayn has become accustomed to, Niall is not that bad of a guy (Zayn is really trying to see that). He's not pushing him down hills anymore or singing that ridiculous remixed song about him somersaulting down. He shouldn't complain on how annoying Niall is when he  knows Niall has got higher potential to actually make him snap and punch his face, making it concave and all. His haughtiness and flirtatious remarks are probably the mid-levelled ones—not enough to give him a good whack in the face even if Zayn wanted to. It's probably his way of trying to be funny. He could use some work.

"We've got... 23 who will rush, 17 who won't." Niall mutters quietly. It must be for his own sake. "The majority of those reasons are to make their years count. As for the 14—four said they hate Fraternities and Sororities and the other three, are afraid of the Fraternities and Sororities."

"So you actually do your school work?" Zayn laughs, one that makes Niall smile tightly.

"You really don't think that?" Niall sighs, and Zayn doesn't disagree. "Image is very funny, isn't it?" Niall chuckles. Well, that came out of nowhere. "You think I'm dumb and I think you're a brainiac."

Niall's one to talk. "In reality, we really don't believe that. You probably might be more than that." Zayn studies Niall. He continues to read the surveys, making notes about them.

"But everyone does." Niall switches his paper to a next one. "Except, we're really not everybody else."

"Who are we then?" Zayn doesn't believe the conversation they're having. It's not one to ideally have when Zayn's talking to someone who hates him while Zayn spends his own time hating him back. Niall's always been his own kind of character, and frankly—Zayn can't tell what's going on right now.

"Honest people who are trying to make ourselves believe what we want to believe." Niall puts the sheet down, and sits back down on his seat where he turns the chair to Zayn. "I don't see you as anything but a guy who's family is rich to the bone, with a probable 4.0 GPA that got him riding into this school with daddy's money, with a giant stick up his ass."

Zayn laughs and shakes his head. That's the first time anyone has ever thought Zayn's all brains, and not giving brains.

"And you must be all beer and party, letting the girls chase you," Niall must be really amused by this. He has his elbow on the arm rest of his seat, holding his head with a grin that's about to rip up to a smile. "Egotistic, loves the attention he gets, probably hooks up at least 4 of the 7 days that he has, and spends the other 3, trashing himself with his boys."

"So I'm the slut and dumbarse, you're the smart and uptight one." Niall laughs. "Really loving this Kappa/Rho bonding time. The truth really does come out."

"I'm not here for the truth. I'm here to do my assignment." Zayn scoffs, looking down at his notebook where its filled with messy notes and scratches on the side.

"But _I_ am." Niall admits and Zayn looks back up to him. "And the truth is, your ex leaked a video of your first time. You use Rho's pretentious behaviour to mask your 3.9 GPA and the stick up your arse to hide the shame and use that guilt of yours to land all the partners you had, and hide the fact that you actually love the adrenaline of sex shooting up your spine. That is, why you constantly sleep with Harry. Never say never, so it seems." Niall blurts it out, lifting a brow. Yes or no? He's asking with the questioning expression of his.

But the smirk on Zayn's face is enough. "Niall Horan—beer fanatic, who-gives-a-fuck attitude, overtly friendly to the point the whole campus has his number. Even mine, can you believe that?" Zayn laughs. "Lowe and behold, he's got a _4.2_ GPA, scholarship all year round, _I-do-care_ attitude, academically involved just as much as my dick has been up asses."

How the truth got out of its closet—Zayn doesn't know. Niall's only sitting across from him, and they've barely shared anything until now. He's impressed.

"It's like a parallel mirror looking at you." Niall winces at Zayn. "I'm disgusted."

"This was fun." Zayn smiles, collecting his books. "You're a bad man, Horan. I think I actually like you now."

"Don't think I can look at you the same anymore." Niall swallows slowly.

"You look at me?" Zayn asks silvery. There's a tilt in his head and a smile on his face. Niall doesn't notice Zayn's hand is on his until he looks down.

Zayn takes his hand away. It's half an hour pass midnight and he's done much as he can finding everything he thinks he knows about the surveys. He even included graphs which was hard enough not using an actual ruler with but the edge of his notebook.

He takes a glance at Niall again—packing his books up. Zayn rolls his eyes after everything he's done not to be a sheep and adore Niall like he's the king of this campus. He never did like Niall—they had nothing in common. Sometimes, by just a little smidgen, opinions and views can change. Just like that, an easy penetration to his walls, he takes him right in by his nape and Niall falls right into it.

He didn't show a hint of any hesitance when pressing his once separate lips between Zayn's, being caught off guard but vigilant towards his lips. Niall knew Zayn would break; there was no surprise to it. And he doesn't mind.

Zayn shouldn't but he likes the way Niall's lips felt on his when he first pressed them against his. Zayn likes the feeling that surged through him as they parted and pressed, parted, brushed slightly against each other when they exhale and then pressed against each other's again. There was a whole pattern to it that Zayn assumes Niall wanted to keep doing for him so Zayn doesn't bother to try and pull away from him. He wouldn't even let him.

"I won't tell if you won't." Zayn pulls apart from Niall.

"What's there to tell?" Niall takes a step back.

Zayn starts to slip his notebooks in his bag. The persona of his is how things are able to be dismissed so easily. No one asks him anything because all they ever think Zayn does is study and write up forms for Rho and upcoming events for rush. Not even Rho knows him so well, Niall just happens to figure him out like that.

"Can you leave first?" Niall beckons his head at the door. "Don't wanna be seen out with you."

"Fucking _imbecile_." Zayn shoves Niall out his way.

Zayn doesn't know what this is anymore. But he's growing to like it by the second.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments and kudos appreciated :)


	3. get used to it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Who's your friend giving you those more or so's?" Liam decides to break the ice.
> 
> "Colleague." Zayn corrects him. "At work." Not working at all.
> 
> "Friends?"
> 
> "Yeah."
> 
> "Good?"
> 
> "Very good." Zayn snorts quietly. "Take what you get?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi it me. sorry if there are any mistakes!

Zayn could say he's doing something today and Zayn wishes he is but at the same time, Zayn doesn’t. This entire week has been dedicated to nothing but the Iron Man light figurine and Rush. And just like the name, it’s been so fast paced and laborious all around. Harry had Zayn show everyone the progress of the figurine yesterday, with Zayn still bearing the grudge against Harry on Friday. All Zayn presented was the sketch which turned out better than he had expected for it to become. Everyone praised the idea of a life-like Iron Man with projecting lights from his eyes, hands, and his core. Why wouldn’t they? Stark’s an arrogant, successful, conceited, yet somehow always right, hero of New York. Everyone loves him. Zayn's grandma does. And Zayn could have started on the base of the figure because the sketch wasn’t hard to finish.

Somehow, Harry knew Zayn's potential to be starting the figure itself and privately talked with him again. He chose his words wisely—how the auction is coming soon, how Zayn should be working harder than right now even though Zayn knows he’d say something about him slacking. Zayn will let him have this, knowing he’s so ignorant to know the effort and time Zayn actually has to put in that figure while finishing a midterm. Zayn will also let him have this because he’s right about the somewhat lazy effort Zayn has been putting on this. If anyone has any distractions such as Zayn—no one will make any progress at all.

A week passes and it's Friday all over again. This is supposed to be the first of three days the brothers do something. Zayn is somewhat excluded until he makes good progress with Iron Man. They’re out now with the accounted bids from Rush. The only one Zayn knows well would be Liam and the buff maniac which he found his name to be Peter. He’s pretty logical if anyone tries really hard to pull it out of him. It was hard to have him pass as a bid because of Ant’s protest during the meeting yesterday. Liam’s liked by everyone so the be pass in the bids didn’t have any debate to it. They bided on 10 lads, excluding 15 with the total of 25 who signed up for Rho, making this the most successful year for the recruiting. And Zayn's not out celebrating.

Exciting.

As for his midterm, Zayn took a break. Meanwhile, his partner’s currently pissed off with him and Zayn couldn’t be more but overjoyed. Pissed, yet texting him. This entire week, they've seen each other at O'Den's. Niall brings a date, Zayn tries to avoid serving Niall but he just loves to make a mess out of his day and spill things on the table when Zayn walks by. Still no tip to this day.

He hasn't started writing his reports yet for the council but that'll be needed by Tuesday for Wednesday's meeting. Right now, he's sat on the couch with a bag of kettle chips, watching Fresh Prince. He was a fresh prince of Bel Air before he decided to live on residence in Portland where it rains every fucking day.

His phone buzzes, and Zayn holds his phone to see a penguin on it.

"You called me like three times already." His voice is close to a robot's when he answers Niall's call.

And Niall starts, "This report really sucks." With intentions of ignoring Zayn's greeting.

"Still slaving yourself to it?" It's not his fault Niall's not giving himself the weekend to relax instead. Zayn heard Kappa's throwing something at their place so Niall must be at the library.

"I hope he enjoys the twenty fucking pages I give him." Niall growls. A loud click of the enter key comes through the phone.

"Working hard, my book worm?"

"I am not your anything." Niall grumbles. "Did you even touch your report since Tuesday?"

"Not really."

"So what are you doing?"

Zayn clears his throat. "I have a date." Zayn couldn't tell him that he was at home. Niall's aware of Rho's tacky bonding time during the weekends.

"You're on the phone with me, while you're with your date? That's not classy of you, undead servant of Rho." Niall scoffs.

"I'm going to her house. And we are going to watch the Fox and the Hound." That was the only movie he could think of from the top of his head.

"Did you tell your boys that?" 

"Told'em I've got papers to do."

"Consulting with the enemy about your rambunctious sex life that you seem to be keeping a secret from Rho is very _risqué_ of you."

"We're only hanging out." Zayn grunts because he really isn't on a date at all. He could be but he's too lazy to call up someone and walk to their flat. "We could hang out too if you want?"

"I'm not exactly ready to die of exile for you." 

"Me neither." 

"But you're asking me out."

"I'm not. If I was asking you out, I'd ask you out to your face."

"But see, Nialler here knows _Zee_ isn't classy and never will be one to settle down."

"Just because I sleep around doesn't mean I wouldn't mind settling down. I am also classy; turn your negative attitude off." Zayn huffs. "It's only to hang out. I would never consider Kappa dating material."

"You'd be surprise if you knew who's been dating for two years." Niall sounds like he's about to scold him for not being in a relationship at 21.

"I dated for two years." Zayn tries to make his point. Or nearly two years—it felt like three.

"You dated a manwhore who opened your chastity box and made you realize sex is the meaning of life. That's technically not true love. Jake and Jesy are." Jake happens to be the treasurer for Kappa.

"What's wrong with Jesy then?" Zayn laughs. He's only kidding. He loves Jesy. "I know what love is, fool. It's when you're very annoyed because of your special someone but at the end of the day, you still wanna hold them to till the next morning." Zayn could almost shed a tear. Almost.

"That's fucking bullshit." Niall cackles through his phone. Suddenly he cuts off and apologizes—probably to the librarian. "You almost had me but—love is when someone understands you, gets you when no one does, encourages you to go your boundaries and supports you."

"You're pretty fucking cheesy for someone who's at the library tonight. Alone."

"Pot calling the kettle black so it seems." Seems like Niall figured it out. Or it must be the sudden blaring of Will's yelling through the speakers. 

"This is exactly why I'm inviting you out tomorrow. Middle ground—at my studio."

"No." Niall denies it completely. "O'Den's or nothing."

"Really, where I fucking work?" Zayn sighs. He licks the cheese off his fingers. "Fine. We'll be there for 8; the boy's will be gone by then."

"And start your fucking assignment." Niall nags him before he hangs up.

Zayn's phone drops to his chips just as a knock implored behind him. Now he's got butterfingers with post-licked cheesy fingers.

"Yeah, wha—" Zayn grumbles with his forefinger in his mouth, opening to Liam who should have been with the rest of Rho.

He looks sheepishly at Zayn just as he was trying to get the remnants of kettle chips off his finger. He should have been the one more embarrassed than he is. Zayn thinks he looks slummy like a redneck, like all Zayn has been doing is drinking cans of beers. Maybe not that bad. Liam doesn't look disgusted by Zayn's appearance.

"I heard you're not with us." Liam mumbles.

"Explains why I'm here, right? What's up?" Zayn might've made him feel stupid by that. "You know you'll be penalized for missing the group activity, right?"

Why he isn’t with the others is all Zayn is wondering too. Either Liam's too shy for what they're doing or he got bored. Rho can never have an in between of really fun and really boring. Sometimes they do the most boring things ever and it’s because they're trying to bore ourselves for fun, talk shit about it after for entertainment. It's weird but Harry and Jordan think of the events to do.

"Yeah, but do you wanna hang?" He asks.

"I can definitely hang," Zayn nods his head once. "Don't you prefer to be with the others though?"

"I kind of feel bad, y'know." He shrugs, "I joined 'cause of you."

"Glad you accepted the bid." Zayn disregarded his comment. Only if Harry heard this.

Zayn let Liam stay in the living room while Zayn went to go change. He doesn't know if Liam knows he's supposed to actually be working on the Iron Man because it seems like he doesn't, and he should—he's basically a part of Rho now.

"Eh, where do you wanna go?" Zayn fixes the sleeve of his jacket when comes back down.

Liam shrugs with his face contorting along, getting up from the couch. "I dunno, anywhere but the movies. I've seen everything."

"Is there a pet store anywhere here?" Zayn shrugs. It's a real neutral place to be. Though it reeks of pet food.

Zayn silences his phone before shoving it in his jacket pocket. Goodness, the collar of this jacket is so aggravating, keeps hitting Zayn's cheek and nose.

Liam grins and nods. "Why? Looking for a best friend?"

"Maybe, I might. A goldfish won't hurt anybody."

"If you want something that can hurt, get the Beta fish."

Zayn tilts his head curiously at him, buttoning his jacket "Now how do you know that?"

"I stuck my finger in and it nibbled like I was its flakes."

"I'm not into biting," Zayn grimaces wryly.

"That's not what your neck's telling me, Zayn." He laughs, poking his finger at Zayn's neck. "You've got one... Another one... Oh! Two on the other side."

"Ah!" Zayn waves his hand away, shoving his feet into his shoes. "That visible?"

"Mate," He narrows his eyes at Zayn, dulling his voice. It must be. "Recent?"

"More or so." Zayn shrugs coyly. He can't believe that 'Harry' marked him.

The air hits him in the face leaving the house just like this afternoon before arriving home. Zayn couldn't believe how cold it is right now. Zayn can see his breath mix in with the light rain whenever he inhales and exhales. It's kind of nice to see the haze of smoke again, without having to light a cigarette. Zayn likes the smoke but he's not much of a fan for its poison and toxins.

"Who's your friend giving you those more or so's?" Liam decides to break the ice.

"Colleague." Zayn corrects him. "At work." Not working at all.

"Friends?"

"Yeah."

"Good?"

"Very good." Zayn snorts quietly. "Take what you get?"

"Certainly," nodding slowly. "Though, I think those days are over."

"Don't worry. With Rho, those days never actually cease." Zayn pats his back. "But I shut my door on those opportunities."

"Unusual for someone like you who's attracting so much attention."

"Don't you ever want to not do anything with a person, but actually enjoy that moment, Liam?" Zayn keeps his arm around his shoulders.

"Mhm." He agrees.

"I had that." Zayn shrugs glumly. "Focus on the right person."

"I already had, and I still fucked up."

Despite the cold, everyone was out on the streets, filling pubs, walking out stores. Zayn can't remember the last time he has been downtown and it wasn't to run errands. There was much to see from his view on the second floor, never had the opportunity to go down further. There's never any time these days when people are three years into university. Zayn can always have time to throw parties back at Rho but never to wander downtown.

They got to the pet store where Liam began to tell his story about his ex-girlfriend. Zayn doesn't know her but her name's Sophia. She's in business entrepreneurship so of course, Zayn wouldn't know who she is. Liam talked about dating her for an entire year until he took the opportunity to join fraternities. Zayn thought it was stupid of them to break up because of that. Even further than stupid, she broke up with him because of the reputations. It's sad to be stereotyped like that but they live with it, knowing the truth behind it all.

Zayn can tell Liam likes her a lot. He doesn't love her but you can tell from his thoughts that he didn't like the idea of breaking up.

"We're friends..." He grimaces weakly. They tap at the window to the golden retriever pup bouncing. This is one way to spend a Friday night. "But I don't wanna be friends. I mean I do, but... You're my friend, I don't wanna hold hands with you and buy you presents."

"Thanks," Zayn smiles widely at the tumbling puppy, ignoring Liam's subtle insult. Zayn wishes Harry allowed puppies inside their house. "Just buy her a goldfish."

"Think she'd like that?"

"I dunoe," Zayn glares side-eyed. "I'm not good with presents and relationships."

"How was your last one?"

"Awful."

"Maybe your co-worker can help you with that." Liam laughs quietly.

Zayn's eyes widen. "Are you joking? He's the last person for me to depend on for that."

"Ah! It's a guy." He nudges Zayn continuously. "This narrows us down to the three thousand going to the school. This rules us out he population of girls. Progress work. Give me about a week, I'll get it figured out." Zayn nods slowly before arriving to the next glass case with the Great Bernese puppy, "Whoa! Look at that l'il guy!" Zayn has one himself back home.

"Really tiny... Very cute at the same time."

"So small, yet look at the other ones." Zayn places his palm against the glass, at the corner where it was resting.

"Imagine the mother."

"Probably smash the whole case."

Morale of the story is to never take him here again. Zayn had thoughts growing in his mind about owning fives of those puppies and watch them all grow up into a bear-like figure. The one he has in Bel Air is already at that point. He'd probably have to hire a handyman and a maid to fix and clean their mess.

Liam and Zayn each bought a goldfish, with a small container that came with red pebbles and a small strand of kelp decoration. Not as expensive as Zayn predicted. Liam's giving his to his ex-girlfriend while Zayn is putting this piece of shit in his room. Piece of shit, Zayn will call it _Orange_. In French.

Before going home, Zayn had bought a few clothes, because he won't be coming back around for a long while as leisure. Besides, he had to get a suit for the auction. He would get a suit for the Greek formal but he's clueless to what the theme is. He's pretty sure after three weeks the meeting would pass, he'll tell them three days before the formal itself and have them rush to stores to match the dress code.

Still the house is empty and it's nearly 11 so Zayn set up the fish bowl in his room, filling it with pebbles and placing the kelp before pouring Orange in. He watches it swim for about a while, watching it blubber and close-open its gills. This would be the closest company Zayn has as of now in this house.

Zayn's phone lights up beside him for an incoming call and no doubt it's Niall.

"It seems like you have nothing better to do," Zayn's voice lowers.

"Don't get all confident, I need advice."

"Out with it."

"So like, should I get original adidas—white with black stripes or green stripes."

"Green." Zayn answers.

"Three for Green, one for black."

"Are you online shopping in the library?"

Zayn shakes his head even though Niall isn't able to see how stupid he finds him. His mouth opens to argue against him until his door opens, and Harry comes barging in with the buttons of his shirt inserted in the wrong places. His hair's disheveled, with him staring right at Zayn, eyes low and tired like he gone and smoked one. He might've, there's a faint smell of it. How couldn't Zayn possibly notice they were home?

"You 'right?" Zayn asks grimacing. He watches him lean on the doorpost with lazy pouty lips. He must've been really out of it.

"Who ya talking to?" Zayn forgets he's talking to Niall through the phone who's questioning Zayn.

"Gone and fucked yourself up, haven't you, Harry?" Zayn calls him without the up-tone of curiosity while answering Niall. Zayn doesn't care that he's here but he's not really giving him any attention whatsoever since Rush week.

"Zaaaayn," Harry slurs very deeply as he drags himself to the end of Zayn's bed. "Who you talkin' to?"

"Won't know him." Zayn replies blandly. Niall surprisingly is staying quiet. Maybe he understands why Zayn has to lie.

"Hang up, I wanna kiss you." He groans, face-planted on Zayn's bed.

"Am busy." Zayn grimaces. He didn't want to fuck. Surprisingly.

"Zayn! I'm fucked up, okay." He groans again.

Zayn stares at Harry who's really off from the usual, lowering his head at the same time to quiet his voice. "Let me call you back, yeah?"

"You're funny." The line cuts really quickly.

By his tone, Zayn knew he was laughing. Zayn doesn't blame him if Niall did, Zayn would be if anything like that happens. Except, it isn't happening right now when he's making Harry's wish come true. Zayn wasn't in any mood to actually fuck anyone, let alone Harry out of everyone. But Zayn pities the guy when he's like this. Sometimes it's sad but he feels worse if he doesn't do what he wants when he's out of his head.

Zayn's still holding him for Friday. Thanks to him, it can't leave his mind. Zayn is sure he's rotting with a bit of guilt with the alcohol's toxins making it vivid in his mind. Harry's touch is far less aggressive than the usual, fingertips caressing on places of his body that's unfamiliar to his. It somehow made the hold of the grudge lighter on Zayn's back, allowing himself to continue something he doesn't want happening anymore.

—

And he wakes up to it again the next morning. Not what Zayn wants, but could need.

"Oh, your neck..." Harry scoffs with a pained expression. "I thought I was just hallucinating through the whole week seeing those marks on your neck." His fingertips run over Zayn's neck, going down to the base of the collar bones.

Maybe it's not what Zayn needs.

"You done?" Zayn stares at him from the corner of his eyes then towards the ceiling as Harry raises himself above him. The last thing he wants is a stare-off with the two inches away from each other.

"Tell me who you're seeing. You've been getting a lot of those lately." He says. 

"None of your concerns." Zayn places a pillow over his torso. Because Zayn couldn't tell anybody the truth that it was really Niall that left him the marks on his skin. He and Niall fuck around when the time allows them to. It isn't more than just a make-out in the washroom at O'Den's.

"It's Neil, isn't it? That Kappa boy?" Harry looks at Zayn from his shoulder, face brightening up as he stretches the boxer's band with his thumb. "The one you've hated."

"You're younger than he is." Zayn scoffs. "I presume."

"Not denying it, are ya?" He turns back facing Zayn.

"Denied." Zayn replies drolly, putting his hands behind his head. Why does Zayn have to actually deny anything? And how does Harry figure it out so fast?

His shoulders shrug up along with his arms. "So who else would it be? You have been seeing him lately for your midterms. Or is that your code word?"

"Code word for _'Harry's being an ass, I need to leave'_ , actually." Zayn shows him a thumbs up.

"You're lucky you're in this fraternity, I would've knocked you for that." He narrows his eyes at Zayn. "Getting a bit bright now, Zayn."

"Fuck out of my room, will you?" Zayn grins at Harry as he scowls at him. "Door's open."

He huffs with a wry smirk on his face. "Again, very lucky."

"Early morning and you're doing this..." Zayn rubs his face, pressing the corner of his eyes. "You really need to fucking leave."

"Listen, fuck you and all but, I'm gonna need you to escort Brianna to the homecoming." He stands casually where Zayn can see him running his hand through his hair.

"For what? Who's Brianna?" His face twists at him. Harry's got these new problems altogether he's rather feeling comfortable to be dropping on Zayn now.

"Her and Louis have this thing and I don't want Louis and her together at all." Emphasis on thing. Zayn doesn't understand this hatred between the two. The drama is all fun but Zayn just hates having to interfere when its really the two of them. Knowing Louis' affections towards Brianna, whoever she is, Zayn really doesn't want to cut in. Thinking outside the fraternity, it's really not his business to be some homewrecker on a house that's just beginning its foundations.

Zayn shakes his head, "Quite the dumbarse you are. Why would she say yes to me if she likes Louis?"

"I told her you like her and to go with you as a favour."

"Wow, fuck you?"

"Awh, did I get in the way of you and Niall?" He starts shaking Zayn's ankles like he's actually getting to him.

"I was gonna ask Leigh, you piece of shit." Zayn whips his pillow at him, almost knocking him backwards.

"Maybe I'll ask her." He clicks his tongue, sliding his hand on the wall before taking it with him out the room.

Stupid fuck! Arrogant, thoughtless, little fuck! This is the last time Zayn will tell the piece of shit anything anymore. He'll throw everything on him the last second so he wouldn't have any way to intercept. Won't have any time react to any of Zayn's bullshit. Won't have to deal with his bullshit. It's bad enough he's the only person to see this fucking act from Harry when everyone else should. Zayn can tell if he's joking or not when it comes to these things. Now, he's just acting really thoughtless. Zayn doesn't know why, he's never been like this. Somethings snapped in him and Zayn doesn't fucking want to talk about it anymore. Knowing he's got this side to him, Zayn should've voted himself as president.

Zayn will admit, he's afraid of taking the initiative to do things. Zayn just doesn't like the thought of everyone having to depend on him after one act of leadership. It's different working on the Iron Man figurine because Harry appointed it to him. Zayn seems to be good at taking initiative. Maybe it's his cockiness peeking out. Maybe it's not when he told everyone else to vote Harry because he's a type of a fucking guy who's afraid of crowds and taking initiative. Harry's a close second to Zayn and somehow, it's taking his toll on him.

But for now, it's time to work on the 'midterm', and everything else.

Zayn doesn't choose to run. He never ran in his life and if he is running, he's running away from something. If he has a choice between running and tatting a horse looking son of a bitch, he'd tat that on his ass. But he doesn't and he's running now. Running through this stupid park, from the top of the hill to the bottom where the pond resides. It's nice there, lots of trees, lots of grass and unlevelled paths. All good. Just getting up the hill is another thing.

There's a lot of people here during the weekend. They take their dogs and walk through the park. It's quiet all around this place. Beautiful in the fall with all the leaves blowing against the cool wind. 10 out of 10 recommend this as a place to go if anyone ever is in need of alone time. 1 out of 10 recommend not trying to run through this whole park area to redeem anyone's self from anger. Especially when Zayn has got lungs of a smoker. Such a deadly thing to do and here he is trying to ignore pain burning in him by levelling the volume of Initiation by the Weeknd to block out the remarks made by families as he passes by. God! His eyes are even sweating!

Zayn is even wheezing and it's out of his intentions. His thighs feel like they're cramping when they're just getting fitter. He's running. It should be doing something for his leg muscles. He wishes it's less painful. He wishes for his lungs to be even less painful than the wish of his muscles to be.

Zayn could be enjoying how the leaves fall all around him. He just can't seem to, having things stir in his head. The auction which he's working with all alone, midterm with some following him next week has got him really occupied into reading his textbooks, the newest pledges of Rho who—the seniors, have to appoint them tasks to see what they can do for Rho, and then that fucking homecoming for everyone. They're only supposed to take a date with them if they're with the fraternity or sorority. With Zayn's temper and bitterness, he'd ask Phoebe to be his date. Only because she's actually the one person that's not jackhammering him deep down to his breaking point. 

Zayn has got that date with him at O'Den's. All he's hoping for is that he doesn't suck. It might when his boss is there.

He stopped running halfway up the hill. Just walking up now to catch his breath that's barely anywhere his grasp. Coughs followed by, and he had to clench his heart to try and stop the pain coming from the intensive coughing. His chest continues to burn, along with his throat because of his coughing.

He has got people staring at him like he's crazy or something. Little do they know how painful it is to be running with tainted lungs from smoking for twenty minutes down the goddamn hill and back up. The place is huge as if it was one of those conservation parks, excluding the wild animals. And he has ran around, being in shit conditions. Maybe Zayn is crazy for trying to run a mile.

Then someone rubs his back out of nowhere, causing him to flinch. Zayn assumes they're trying to make him feel better or help so he doesn't mind. Just taken by surprise is all.

Then the rubbing gets familiar against his back—just like nails digging on there. He decides to keep his mouth shut, excluding the times he's got to breathe. Knowing its him, he would've elbowed him right away. But he's just being nice and Zayn don't wanna be the person who doesn't appreciate nice things done for them.

"Great." Zayn exhales, taking the water bottle from his offered hand. He feels a bit bad about taking it so he pushes it back towards him before Niall waves his palm at Zayn as a no.

"You run too?" He laughs loudly. Zayn can hear the disbelief in his voice.

Zayn shakes his head just as he finishes the bottle already. "No. But I'd like to take a guess that you do?" Zayn turns to find an empty bench where he sits himself down.

"Mhm," Niall nods proudly before putting a big smile on, probably remembering something. "I'm academically amazing and athletic."

"That's surprising." An exhale forces out.

"Just finished?" He asks, cracking his fingers on his hip.

"Duh, I'm fucking dying here." Can't Niall hear his breathing?

"Gonna be on your way then?" He pulls his arm across his chest while his other hand holds the elbow. He holds it for a few seconds before switching arms. God, Zayn's such a fucking idiot. If he's going to be running frequently and under Harry's damn issues, Zayn might as well work out with Niall, knowing he knows his stuff like stretching before running. It completely slipped out of his mind.

"Not yet. Not too excited about going back just yet." Zayn blinks feverishly, finding himself staring off into space which is actually Niall's arms.

"Would ya mind if I leave my stuff here?" He already begins emptying his pocket. It's kind of a funny habit for people to ask permission to do something but do it already before the answer's come out yet. He'd love to say no.

Zayn nods. "Leave them. Don't care."

But Zayn couldn't, knowing the look on his face when he becomes all disappointed. He doesn't know if this is Niall's excuse to pull off his sweater from his head and reveal this tight fitting black shirt that outlines a bit of his chest, abdomen area and side. Obviously some type of attire used when you run, explaining the fit of it but Zayn is not complaining about the exaggeration, Zayn likes the exaggeration it puts on his torso.

"How long will you take?" Zayn lightly grimaces at him as he bends his leg from the edge of the bench. Shit, can he fucking lean in.

"Dunoe, 10 minutes maybe?" He switches legs.

"Alright. Just asking."

"I won't take long."

Niall nods at Zayn just before running off through the trail. It doesn't take a minute for him to disappear from Zayn's sight and he's left here to hold onto his stuff. His heart's still pounding and it must've been 7 minutes since Zayn sat down. He's never running again or smoking. He lies, that habit isn't gonna die down just yet. In sparring, his heart doesn't hurt like this. Zayn hopes it does tomorrow when he whack Harry out so he doesn't have to continue sparring with him ever again.

Zayn doesn't mind laying a few punches but he wants a new partner. Harry's been his since February and nothing about his agility and skills changed. He's supposed to move forward and better his skill and he's not doing that at all. Maybe he'll ask Eggsy or Peter.

Niall arrives back walking just before slamming himself down on the bench where he glistened with sweat and flushed cheeks. His breathing is ragged and forced out like he's read to die just like Zayn from before. He could've offered Niall back his water if Zayn hadn't gone and finished it. Yet, Niall's a better runner than he is so he must know how to stable his pace and such. As for Zayn, he just ran without a clue.

"I almost tripped over a dog." He groans, pushing his hair back from his face.

"Poor dog." Zayn laughs.

"We still on for tonight?" His hand goes to tap Zayn's leg for his attention but drops on the space between them just as he turns to look at Nial like a normal person does when talking.

"Yeah, I really don't know why O'Den's." Zayn can't tell whether Niall's breathing or laughing, having this smug look on his face.

"Food's good."

"Of course it is." It always is.

—

If it was a real, honest date—Zayn would have dressed up to impress. He wore his bomber jacket over his plain t-shirt, picked up the cleanest pair of black jeans and put them on. His hair was slicked back and tied, and he didn't think to bring anything but his phone and wallet because for once, they're getting along.

But Niall comes in with a jean jacket with wool as its collar and solid black jeans that are darker than Zayn's, and his backpack is with him and he has no idea why he has a backpack.

The only reason that this is happening is because Harry's instructed him that throughout the rest of the weekends until the school wide auction, Zayn's going to work on the Iron Man. And he has started with the measurements and metal cutting, but two hands aren't enough to handle making Iron Man. He's not Tony Stark, but Harry seems to think so. 

"You smell like shit." Zayn's nose wrinkles when Niall sits across from him. He slides in, putting his backpack along the wall.

"It's my friend's aftershave." Niall explains, almost hurt by the comment. It practically smells like some kind of cool mist. Zayn doesn't know what he's talking about.

"Because you wouldn't happen to own aftershave."

"Of course not. I'm hairless." Niall rubs his jaw. Barely stubbles but he feels the roughness of his skin.

After ordering what seems to be the cheapest to them, Niall took out his research report—all twenty pages, stapled.

"I'm finished." Niall says proudly, as Zayn flips the pages. He doesn't read one word of it. "Do you need help with yours?"

"Really are a fucking smart ass." Zayn sounds impressed as he hands Niall back his little booklet. "But I'm alright. Think you went quite mad with yours."

"Thanks, I think." Niall looks off to the side before the wall. 

"What's your excuse to Kappa?" Zayn asks. Zayn doesn't even need one to step out. He's the one that should be out.

"I told them I had a date." Niall shrugs. "If I told them I'm heading out to the library or something, they'll talk some shit and I won't ever get to leave."

Zayn licks his lips, feeling the dryness. "Let's just establish this that we're only hanging out."

"Yeah. Didn't think anything else about it." Niall grimaces at Zayn. "Why do you think I brought my assignments?"

Because he was a smart ass? At least after everything they've been through since the library, Niall hasn't tried to hit on him through his obnoxious arrogant talk he thinks is flirting. It's almost like their roles are totally reversed now, and Zayn didn't want to be the arrogant asshole that's supposed to hit on Niall. Zayn's aware he doesn't have to follow by the book, though for old time's sake, it feels like he should. 

That kind of attitude doesn't resonate with him, so he sits back—close to fighting Niall on their way out when they spoke about their positions as VP. Zayn almost forgot Niall wasn't just some Kappa member he's been risking his own respect and dignity to against Rho; he's on the same boat risking his name to Rho against Kappa. They've established it without any exchange of words that neither one really wants to do anything to infiltrate the house. Nobody wants dirty information and even if they did, Zayn would never compromise his loyalty and his place in the house to Niall. 

Niall invites Zayn to walk around with him in the city before hitting back their houses. Figured they should take it since it's pretty lonely of Zayn to be walking back alone and know someone walking the same way he is whom he is familiar with. It's not a too far walk from campus, just about 10 minutes.

"I'm not trying to argue with you anymore," Zayn established that firsthand before he continues. Zayn said he was going to let it go and it has been two-three weeks. Now he finds himself involving Niall. "But do you believe you're a good Vice President?"

"Can't believe you're taking the fucking piss." He laughs, before he looks back at Zayn. "Yeah. I'm not terrible. Do you?"

"I-I think." Zayn frowns lightly. And he really did let it get to him. He said he wouldn't let Harry's statement get to him but he let it and now, Niall's eyebrow is raising at him. Zayn quickly shakes his head at Niall. Why is he gonna expand on this? Zayn barely knows him.

"You think? You're not very sure about that, are you?"

"No, but I don't have to explain myself to the likes of you." Zayn scowls before looking back down to his shoes.

Niall quietly starts to laugh. What is it now? He's always laughing about something either inappropriate or stupid. "You're quite sensitive after all. Who knew you had feelings beside anger?" He simply lets out.

Zayn could punch him in the face but he won't because somehow he can't help but laugh at Niall and his shit comment. "I'm not the Grinch of life. And I never had a stick up my fucking ass, prick."

He gestures at Zayn with his hand and with this big smile on his face as he continues to laugh. "You're smilin' already. Zayn, whatever's botherin' you, don't let it affect you. See how fast you moved on?"

Zayn sighs, trying to hold off the smiling. "I haven't—sadly, but I'm better now."

Zayn has got his impatience to confess what's bothering on the tip of his tongue, ready to spill to Niall about that afternoon. And remembering Zayn's part in the presentation, about trust—he can't resort to anyone about his issues but his brother's unless he's putting the same amount of trust into them as he is into his family. It's the only thing holding Zayn back from telling Niall about Harry's statement on him. He doesn't always have to resort to his brothers—he can resort to the people he trusts and who're there to actually listen. Half the time, the brothers are always minding their own business in the house so how are they going to listen? Even if he tells one of them, the word gets around. 

Niall's here, not only would he listen but actually understand where Zayn is coming from. Zayn could easily talk to Leigh about this—if she understood his position in this. He trusts Niall completely for some reason, even having to hate him for 3 years.

He couldn't think to hold it in any longer—they sat down on a bench at an open area which was just beside Zayn's studio, and he tells Niall about the weekend they had tours in the house. And throughout the story, he actually kept his mouth shut, just nodding to whatever Zayn might have thought seemed something he understands. He might have indulged himself into explaining it to Niall but he gave Zayn that kind of assurance—that he's allowed to tell Niall things and it won't be an issue to him.

It's more stressful than anyone thinks—to have to talk about fraternity brothers, the people Zayn has decided to live with and have their back. It's worse that he has to talk about the shit they put on him when they're his brothers. Harry's not supposed to do this to him; he's not supposed to do this to Harry. No one calls him out for being a bad President because he's not—he's confident about it all. As for Zayn; to have Harry call him out when no one else did, assuring Zayn he's doing his job fine—assured him that he's worse than he thinks. Then to know he did better at the presentation than he did, even coming late—suddenly puts doubt in Zayn about him being President.

This has just been a one-time thing. Zayn knows the year has already started however, Harry resorted to him to do the Iron Man figure for the auction himself and to think of an idea that he can pitch to Kappa and the two Sororities. Three times has Zayn stepped over him and it's only the middle of October. He's got the characters and principles of a proper President, yet he's starting to think he was blind and fooled under his fucking flattery and charisma when he voted Harry to be President.

"God, Zayn! I thought you were worried about something big." Niall breathes out, a little breath of smoke escapes his mouth against the cold night. "You've started the year off as a good vice president already. Don't let this shit weigh you down and make you a bad one."

"How the hell can you figure out that I am?"

"Well, you're not letting this stupid rivalry between our houses get to you." He shrugs. "That's important."

It seems like a small deal but it's big to the two fraternities. Zayn can't blame Louis because it would be biased but if it wasn't for his grudge against Harry's stupidity earlier this year, before entering third year of university. Mostly between Harry and Louis—everyone else were just supporters, in favour for loyalty. Louis was a great guy to have in the house. Zayn wasn't close to him as the others but he can make a lot of them lighter in the mood. He had a hot temper and Harry always took advantage of it.

The policy of 'don't enter rival's territory' was always there, but it became worse over the past two years. With the sisters, they enter each other's house anytime they want because they don't have a goddamn dilemma with each other. He doesn't know who's right or who's wrong but Zayn really wants this immaturity to end. Along with this, they even had them dislike the others and vice versa.

That's how Zayn started his dislike for Niall but the hate is just personal vendetta against him for first year orientation. Rho fought in favour for Harry while Kappa fought in favour for Louis. And it somehow seems like some ridiculous Romeo and Juliet scenario all over again. Zayn swore he was done with that story and leaving it in high school. It looks like it didn't want to be left behind.

Zayn doesn't know why Niall kisses him, but he took it with endearment and kissed him back. Knowing someone actually cares to listen to him 'take the fucking piss' as Niall calls it, might have softened his heart a bit. And no, he isn't the Grinch. He just hasn't had time in his life since school started to talk to anyone.

He gets back to his house, only to be given dirty looks from Harry who's at the kitchen. He's mad and Zayn doesn't care that he is; he's past it. 

"Where were you tonight?" Harry asks—his mischievous tone peeking out with the dirty look he's giving Zayn on his face.

"Leigh's place." Zayn drank his last glass of water. "Goodnight."

He would only be here for twelve hours to sleep before he's out to spar with Harry again—unless Harry is nice enough to give him the Sunday off. If Harry has something to say, he should probably say it now because Zayn will be asleep for a while. Harry will have to hold this confusing anger on Zayn until tomorrow.

The bruises are almost gone from Zayn's neck. Somehow they look enticing with the water drying over from the shower, and he thinks he should have one more—just for the sake of it.

—

For breakfast, he had a bowl of cereal. Without the fucking milk because someone never told Ben who usually does the groceries here. They even left the empty jug of it like that's pleasing. Their cereal cupboard is lacking, with so many people eating cereal like it's lunch and dinner. Then they don't ever tell Ben they're at the bottom of the cereal and they will complain about having no food. Zayn ate that part. It's awfully powdery. Powdery, crushed cereal and no milk makes Zayn think that he should've just went to O'Den's again.

Zayn's starts on Iron Man's arm, getting thin sheets of metal and drilling them and doing all sorts to make it look like his arm. The studion has almost everything that make it happen, it's unbelievable. He has never done any of this technical work since year 12 when he had tech class and he wasn't the best student with wood or math. And he's here with the metal face cover burning the sheet of metal with the other one with a small torch. He doesn't know how he'll install the lights when all of this is finished but he'll look for someone to do that. Zayn made a light go on before—with a switch, a wire, a lightbulb, and battery. That was all in 6th grade for a science fair. And this is a life size model of Iron Man—little string of wires and tiny light bulbs with double A batteries won't make it light every place on his body that's supposed to light. This is the Mark VII model of Iron Man and Zayn can't imagine it'll turn just as good. The arm is already turning well from what he thought was going to be horrible with his skill. Actually, no skill.

Zayn stopped about there before leaving the studio to meet Leigh at her place. It's always clean there, unless her room compensates for that. She doesn't let Zayn in there, he doesn't know why. He let her enter his, but she gets driven back out because of his obnoxious brothers.

"I got a goldfish," Zayn narrows his eyebrows in, listening to himself say that. He turns to her who's expression never changed. These days, she's never surprised about anything he does. She's seen it all a few hundred times or more.

Her laugh begins to build up. "Only you."

"Afraid not." Zayn says gleefully."Liam got one too." He'll leave out the fact that he had to give it to his ex.

"That new pledge of yours?" She continuously shoves crunchy Cheetos in her mouth, biting from her left side.

"Yeah. He ditched group night to hang out with me y'know? Got me in fucking awe."

"Why weren't you a part of group night?" She tilts the opening of the bag towards Zayn.

"Just a misunderstanding with Harry." Zayn bites his gums, trying not to think of that again just as he shoves his hand in. He has said this story about hundred times that it's annoying Zayn himself but giving him something to worry about because he feels as if everyone's tired from it too. "Listen, are you busy Halloween?"

"Depends." She snorts. "What do you need?"

"Think you could have something here?" Zayn thinks out loud. "I'll help you out, pay for the damages, clean this place out afterwards."

"There's just one problem. I don't have that much friends." Leigh snorts. "Except, I do like Perrie." She looks up at Zayn as she leaves her own thoughts. "Isn't Rho doing something?"

"You mean all the fraternities and sororities? Yeah." Zayn sighs as he begins to rub his head. "It's just—I've been so stressed that I need to be on neutral ground."

"Second problem. The majority of your friends are Rho."

"I expanded." Kind of.

"How far?" Leigh laughs.

"Just like the English barons in 1169, Ireland." Zayn remembers a lot of things from the history channel.

"Pause." She quickly pulls her offer back on the chips just as Zayn was about to reach for some. More like rewind because she's never even given Zayn any but no arguments with her are needed to be made. "You and the cute one are friends now?" She grins slyly with her eyes narrowed in on Zayn.

"I guess. He's not as bad as I interpreted but you gotta look past—I mean like beyond the borders of the lad's arrogance. Also, he's got his moments."

"Why the sudden change of heart?"

Zayn pouts while he ponders. "He's... Funny." Yeah, that's it. It's not like he's actually fit to him or whatever. Maybe. "In augment, the majority of the time we find ourselves conversing, one of us is dealing with shit so something just... Varies?"

"Such a busy week for ya." She shakes her head, tilting the bag back. "Wait, aren't your brothers fighting with his brothers?"

Zayn nods, munching. "Mhm, but we've made a short-term union to tolerate each other for the midterm, remember? Besides, I don't bring him over to the house. If he's in, then that's another story."

"Harry approve of this?"

"No but I can't really find myself to care what he approves or disapproves these days."

"So you want to invite him?"

"If you push past the arrogance, the obnoxious behaviour... He's really not that bad." Zayn huffs. "But then again, he's got Kappa's Halloween party. So maybe I'll just stick with Rho."

"You guys have good liquor. In other news, you guys cannot hold it down." 

Zayn looks back to the time that he's puked in the toilet after many rounds, looks back to the time everyone else did too. Yup, liquor isn't their best friend. 

In fact, Halloween rolls in, he's nearly finished his midterms thanks to the helping hand of Niall's notes, and he's carrying a trunk full of booze. Though, the campus knows by now—they should bring their own drink and $10 to get in. No one shells out $200 worth of booze and expects to get nothing.

There's nothing actually festive about their house. Well, there are a few green lights and a smoke machine, some gooey concoction Eggsy made to scare people with. At least they're trying to get into the festivity of it.

Leigh goes as a ringmaster—top to bottom complete and it looks very realistic. She's got the jacket and top hat. She'd have a whip if she wasn't in a boy's nest. 

Then there's his brothers who's got the worst thing next to imagination: Harry goes as Mick Jagger, Ant goes as a police officer (says the ladies love a man in uniform and he's titled as the worst costume before he even put it on), Eggsy goes as a toy soldier (this one isn't terrible at all, he has adorable painted red cheeks and a blue and white suit), the few of them are a squad of zombies, and then there's him.

"Bruce freaking Wayne." Leigh scoffs, and Zayn turns, giving her a smile as he fixes his suit. "You know, it beats out all the Batman costumes."

"Thanks. Glad you know where I'm coming from." Because as much as he loved Batman, no one ever goes as Bruce Wayne, the man behind the mask. Everyone will guess lawyer—although Zayn doesn't know how a lawyer is considered a costume—and he'll say Bruce Wayne, and he'll expect the 'ahhh's' and laughs.

As two hours pass—there's viscous smoke hazing all over the floor, two screams because of Eggsy's disgusting goo, and about two compliments on his absurd Bruce Wayne costume. A lot of the people said he was lazy—that's rich coming from the second Joker he has seen wandering around the house tonight. He was expecting a lot more people to understand the concept, but he doesn't blame them when they're three tequila shots in.

And he's tasting salt off some girl's neck. Lighten up, they said, Forget about Alex. They should know by now, he's forgotten all about him. He takes lime wedge from her mouth, sucking the juices out before he down the shots. There's a second that burns, and then there's cheering right in his ear.

Without a body to lick off from, he takes two more, hoping it would kick in fast to set his level of high up. He could smell the pot around their house and he's close to puking. He never did like the smell of it.

He makes his way out the kitchen and to the washroom. Luckily no line up, he slips in, takes a piss and hope he doesn't look fucked up as he was beginning to feel. 

Once he comes out hand-washed, face cooled up, he feels the heat of the house again.

"Nice costume." He hears when he finally finishes scanning the house. 

"Yeah, I'm Bruce Wayne." Zayn has to explain. He turns to the voice, and his eyes shoot out to TJ Detweiler from Disney's Recess. He's got the dark olive bomber jacket, the plain white shirt, and blue jeans. Even the hat, and Zayn's not sure he wears sunglasses but he has them on too. Zayn winces, and there is something very very familiar about the grin on his face.

"What the fuck. Niall?" Zayn hisses, shoving him into the washroom where he shuts the door and braces it with his back. Even through the sunglasses and hat, he was quite conspicuous, and if anyone else found him—he'd be beyond a dead man.

"Believe it or not," Niall holds his hands up in defence. He has taken the sunglasses and red baseball cap off; showing his dishevelled flat hair and his face is redder than Zayn's if anyone wants to look real close. "I actually came here to see you."

"Yeah, fuck, you're not exactly convincing me here." Zayn glares at him.

"Okay, fine." Niall huffs. "I'm just here to take some booze. Some fucking idiot watered down our beer so now it tastes like fucking piss, and if I find out who it is, I'm going to kill them." 

"And Rho is going to kill you, if you don't get out of here." Zayn takes a deep breath. God, if this was a month ago, Zayn would have Niall's head right then and there. Now, he's hiding a fugitive in the washroom where they hear a knock outside the door.

"I'm taking a shit!" Zayn yells. Niall shrugs, opening the tap and throws cold water on his face.

"If it's Rho who watered our beer down, I swear, Zayn..." Niall shakes his head.

"You shouldn't make threats in our house." Zayn smirks all of the sudden. "I could open this and have your dick cut off." Niall rolls his eyes.

Zayn opens the door where there's about three people waiting on him. Niall follows behind with his baseball cap and glasses back on. If someone else found Niall wandering around their house, Zayn wouldn't even be able to save him even if he wants to.

They find haven up in Zayn's room, but Zayn locks him in because he can't actually believe he's fucking here. And Zayn can't believe he's risking his own life and position here sneaking into his own kitchen for the booze in the fridge. It's all Greygoose and different flavours of tequila cooled already. Zayn doesn't know whether to grab one whole Greygoose bottle or two tequila bottles.

"Hey, man." Ant holds his shoulder, and Zayn spins right around. Fuck, he's drunk and helping a convict. He could feel himself dying at this point. "The  drinks are right there."

Fucking think.

"I have a date upstairs." Zayn blurts out. "Thinking of setting the mood."

"Hey man!" Ant shakes his shoulder and pushes him aside. "Tequila if you both want to get fucked up. This one if you guys want to remember the night." This one is vodka. There's really no better choice here but tequila. Yet, Zayn's thinking enough quantity.

"Uh, let me take both and see what she'll like." Zayn pulls both the bottles out. 

Ant starts to laugh. "Glad you're getting some, Master Wayne." His mock of a British accent was terrible. Even then Zayn was laughing with him.

As soon as he stopped, he rushed upstairs, fists around the neck of the bottles. They're large enough to share around, strong enough no one has to drink a gallon of piss water. Zayn should not even be thinking about the unfortunate event of piss water at Kappa's party. He can't believe he's helping Niall, and he didn't even ask. He just did, and he feels like a chihuahua right now, shaking in fear in his own house.

He knocks three times, and Niall opens the door and locks it right behind him, quietly cheering for the booze Zayn brought for him. It was more than enough—no one was getting their fucking hands on these. Not after piss water, no one is to be trusted.

"Thanks." Niall presses a kiss on Zayn's lips when he takes the bottles out of his hands. He's weighing them, doesn't have a why, but it feels satisfying to steal real drinks from Rho even if Zayn stole it from his own house.

"Okay, now I really have to leave." Niall could feel his stress level rising. He puts the drinks in his backpack, zipping it closed shut on a table.

"Not too fast, now." Zayn grabs him by his waist, breaking the seams of his lips, and holds his jaw with one hand, fingers slipping into his hair. It was too hot, too fast. It was a flash to him, having Niall kiss him back, open mouth, tongues touching. Really, it was too fucking hot.

"I have to go." Niall hums. Zayn's willing to let him go; he's just not sure Niall's ready to let go himself.

"Mm-mmm." Zayn disagrees nonetheless. Niall pushes harder, and neither of them can breathe.

Zayn starts to take his suit jacket off and whips it down to the floor. Niall continues to lick inside his mouth, nibbling Zayn's swell lips. It took Zayn longer to take his clothes off with all the layers. He left it all on the floor with Niall's, thinking about taking his suit to the dry cleaners after tonight.

Zayn does his thinking better on his bed—and there he was under his duvet and under Niall in the middle of it, pressing his bent leg against Niall's hip. He could barely think right now, yet he spent all his time thinking about trying to think and all he could get were adjectives about Niall. Good ones, actual complementing, nice, solid ones he wanted to tell him but his mouth was too busy, tongue too busy lacing around Niall's. 

"This would be so fucking sweet if you weren't drunk and a closet slut." Niall exhales, tilting his head and dips down to Zayn's neck, feeling his teeth right down his skin.

"Don't be an ass, and let me enjoy this in peace." Zayn's legs try to widen as Niall digs his hips down even deeper between his, their hipbones clashing.

"Oh, but I thought we hate each other." Niall presses his whole entire tongue down before his mouth closest right under his jaw.

"Shut up and kiss me."

Niall pulls up with a smile, and it disappears right when he leans to kiss Zayn again, tender between his lips, pressuring enough that they're sucking each other's lips.

Disappointing enough, the lube is too far for Zayn to get and slick his hands. Somewhere in between he gets his dry hands around their half-hard and leaking cocks, he'll make sure it's close to him the next time. 

Zayn's mentioned it a thousand times, but it's fucking hot in this house. His forehead is sweating, and he could feel Niall's back beginning to sweat. Not to mention between his legs, it was starting to heat up. The more Niall thrusted into Zayn's fist, the sweatier he was getting. The friction was getting louder and thickly wetter.

It was all so tight between their legs that Zayn's feet is pressed at the back of Niall's thighs. He wanted more, and Niall knew he did. He was at a better angle to stroke their cocks together so Niall slipped his hands around their shaft and the hand that used to be there, went in Niall's hair. 

"Disappointing you can't stay." Zayn exhales. His eyes are nearly shut and he has no idea what he's actually focused on. He's just feeling too much everywhere all at the same time. There's the dim light of from his ceiling, and it was still too dark to see anything to him. 

"I could stay," Niall kissed Zayn's bottom lip, hands suddenly sliding up around their heads. "But Kappa's not gonna get their drinks, and I'll be a total failure. And I don't wanna fail because—of this."

"Don't tell me they know you're here." 

"No." Niall kissed him again, deeper. Zayn feels his stomach suddenly tightening, his asshole throbbing. "Should've been back half an hour ago." 

"And you're here—"

"You're lasting longer than I thought." Niall's laugh is breathless and Zayn just wants to breathe it all in, breathe in his musky scent that they're suddenly sharing. But there's the smell of Niall's aftershave along his jaw he wants to take in. Zayn just wants to breathe; he's losing his breath and gaining none back.

"Shit, I'm about to come. Hurry the fuck up." Niall grunts in his neck. Zayn can tell; his hips are nearly banging against his and his fist is fucking tight and rapid.

Zayn suddenly moans quietly when the heat escapes his cock, on his stomach and between Niall's fingers. As Zayn spurts out, Niall continues pumping until his hips push right against Zayn's and he's coming between their cocks, the thick milky fluid spilling all in his hands. He still strokes their cocks, pushing their tight foreskin back and forth and Niall pulls it halfway around their head until they're done coming.

Zayn didn't expect Niall to be laughing but he was laughing in his neck until he put their foreheads together and he was laughing over Zayn's mouth before he closed his mouth with his.

"I'll see you tomorrow." Niall's voice is so dusky and sweet. "Don't forget your research report."

"Thanks." Zayn kissed him once more before Niall got off for a kleenex to wipe his hands.

Zayn watched him put on his clothes as long as he can before he let his eyes close. The only way without getting caught leaving this place is through the window. There's a little tiny awning over the window of the dining room Niall's feet could touch if he slides down. It isn't a big drop so Niall doesn't make a giant fuss about climbing out the window. Better this than having him dead. The breeze outside makes Zayn shiver so he stays under the covers, falling fast asleep.

After half an hour, his phone buzzes.

_Neil Diamond: im aliiive!_

— 

Zayn made the deadline of his research report and all of the other assignments he had to hand in. For once he devoted actual study time for his classes, and it isn't because Leigh had one of the best study group in her apartment. With it being packed with people, Zayn wouldn't dare try and involve himself in if he knew it wasn't worth it.

His entire Friday was spent on studying until midnight when he fell asleep with his textbooks and notes opened on his bed. He needed to let loose again, and he missed training. He's spoken to Niall about doing some boxing training which he agreed to do at another gym that doesn't have the men of Kappa working out there on the weekends. He stopped sparring with Harry; he got Peter as his new partner and Zayn didn't mind one bit about the replacement—Eggsy or Niall would suffice. 

This Saturday, the senior members decided that the pledges be finally tested. It was all fun at first, but the real work begins—starting with a race.

"We call it, the _Amazayn Race!_ " Zayn starts to laugh, clutching the clipboard against his chest. Everyone else snickers at the name, while the senior members stare at Zayn, wondering what compelled him to do such a thing.

Midweek into November, it was too cold for Zayn. So while everyone wore their athletic gear, he stuck to the heft of his wool jacket, jeans, and boots. He won't be doing anything today but waiting at the finish line, occasionally destroying everyone's chances of winning.

"The theme is around the world. We've got countries far as Canada," Zayn gestures up. "Egypt, Australia, and Japan." It's a lot of challenges for one day.

"You'll all start at Canada where you will compete in a dog-sleigh challenge." Zayn smiles afterwards. The junior members are worried. Nothing to worry—unless they care about their reputation around campus. Anthony is in charge of the dog sleigh race. 

"You will decide in your team who will be the four dogs pulling the sleigh and who will be the one to mush. You will need to wear the costumes bought by Harry, and pick up one of the three packages at the end of the trail." Anthony explains. "But they are not just any packages. They contain your ticket to the next destination. If you come back to me with an empty box, you will have to mush back and pick up another box until you have the right one. I am the only one who can open the package. Is that clear?"

"Are there knee-pads?" Liam asks. "Because I've got terrible knees."

"Yes. Considering your environment, we've provided you with knee pads." Harry answers, turning his whole body to look at the group because his hood is surrounding his whole head.

"What kind of sleighs are they...?"

"They're wheelbarrows." Zayn answers with a smile.

"Oh god." Everyone muttered

"Cheer up!" Zayn yells. He worked hard on this event. Not to mention he spent twenty minutes in the market picking up fish for the Japanese challenge. It was hard enough he watched the live fish die—he was glad he didn't have to be there when they were preparing the house's dinner tonight.

Eventually, the teams dispersed and Zayn had set his timer on. Now all he had to do was wander around campus for an hour and a half.

So he went to O'Den's, met Leigh there. He discovers she's never been here, she discovers how nice their soup is with a biscuit. 

"So, heard Rho is having their weekend pledge torture." Leigh laughs at the snapchat that got sent to her from one of the girls in Theta. It was a video of the dog-sleigh with quite a lot of attendee's watching. It was at least a hundred metres between Anthony and the boxes. 

"The Amazayn Race: World Tour." Zayn nods in his pride. It really is the best thing he's ever thought of. He sips his coke, giving a nod at the waiter who greets him back.

"I can't breathe!" She watches the rest of the snapchats being shared across campus. There was Peter and Liam on one team, expressing their stress dragging the wheelbarrow with two other members—all outfitted with doggie onesies. The one in the wheelbarrow is yelling at them to go faster, and one of the dogs are barking back, _'I'm a fucking dog! I cannot understand you, piece of shit!'_

"All's well, then." Zayn grins. "I heard Theta put a bid on you."

"They did. They were cool." Leigh shrugs. "Like I said, I'm not interested. I can't give up my base like that."

"At least stay friends with them." Zayn advises. Knowing Theta as the years pass, they are really wonderful women.

He should leave now and go back to the centre square for the second destination which is Egypt for the pyramid challenge. His watch says 12:20, but he's not ready to leave yet. He can't wait for Japan—he'll probably puke at the sight of sushi after their challenge.

Minutes pass and there's more videos being shared around. In Zayn's fifth video, Niall finally walks in, geared up in sweats and a crew-neck pullover that says  _NEXT TIME._

"What does that _mean_?" Zayn lifts a brow at Niall when he sits down beside him. 

"Like, I'll see you _next_ time." Niall shrugs. It doesn't get more complicated than that.

"You're so egotistic." Zayn scoffs. "How many girls do you say that to?"

"A few." Niall's lips twist.

"Hi Niall." Leigh's pitch starts off high and it falls. She smiles wide, like the greeting is towards Zayn. "I'm Zayn's friend, Leigh-Anne."

"Yeah, yeah. Good to meet you." Niall nods. "I'm Zayn's midterm partner. It's been a week since we've finished, but I wonder why he always wants me around."

"Get your head out of your ass." Zayn elbows his side.

"Anything for you." Niall's cheeks get big when he smiles. An arm of his comes around Zayn's shoulder, closing together the space between them.

Zayn glares at him; unsure of what all this really is. He plays the persona well when he doesn't have to. The truth is, neither of them. They're so caught up in the image of what their fraternity is, pretending is much easier than accepting the reality that they're nothing what anyone expects. At least, Niall doesn't have to—intelligence is adored by everyone. But it's 2015 and sluts are the same as they were five years ago—impure, dirty, and easy. 

"Jesus Christ, you guys are stressing me out." Leigh huffs.

"I'll be back." Zayn needs to head to the second destination. By now, two teams should be there while one's still trying to catch up behind him.

It's going to be a terribly busy weekend. Tomorrow is going to be a suspenseful game of guess the murder.

—

It's preferable that Zayn sees Niall right after a long week's worth of studying. If he lives so far, Zayn wouldn't make the effort to go to his place. But he just lives three blocks aways from Rho. It wouldn't hurt to walk for 10 minutes to meet him outside. But Zayn has to focus really hard on his assignments and work himself like a mule to relax afterwards.

It's remarkable that he's getting work done. Knowing what to type comes easy to him. Except the professional etiquette that comes behind it where he has trouble on how to type and word all of it properly. Sometimes reading it over and over helps and most of the time, it doesn't—where in his head, he begins to sound like a sarcastic egotistic twat.

There's steps going up the stairs that anyone's able to hear. Maybe not anyone but just Zayn, hearing sudden creeks whenever someone steps on the fourth and seventh step. By the delay of each step and how quiet it is compared to anyone in the house, Zayn just knows it's Harry.

And all Zayn wants now, knowing he's here, is not for him to knock on his—

He's knocked.


	4. cold sweat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> when zayn woke up to the next day; things felt different. then he realized harry hasn't bothered him for a quick blowjob or quick fuck that morning. but it'd only be three days that zayn would have nothing requested upon him until the fourth where harry would ask zayn for that favour. but he's not thankful; somehow, he really needed somebody now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> loooool, im so late. sad thing is i have all the chapters done. i just procrastinate on the editing. for those who are actually reading this, thanks :) talk to me on theweekndftzayn.tumblr.com
> 
> sorry if there are any typos and mistakes

 "Hey." Zayn pulls it open to Harry slumped on the wall. He runs his nail of his forefinger down the wall before looking up at Zayn. He slips between the small space of opened door, like Zayn isn't going to invite him in anyways.

"Where'd you run off between the races?" He asks, standing by Zayn's bedpost with Orange looking towards him.

"I went to O'Den's, met Leigh there just to chat." Zayn says simply. He doesn't have anymore detail to give. He's not obligated to. Harry's not his mother.

"I've already talked to you about this. Leaving in the middle of a pledging event? Your behaviour is changing." 

"How? Because I've been out with people that aren't in our brotherhood? You guys haven't been inviting me out anymore."

"I'm giving you time to work on our fundraising scheme, where in the weekday—I understand you won't have time." Now Harry is making Zayn look like the bad guy. He's aware of the compressed time that he tries to manage and he is also aware Harry's trying to pin things on him.

"I know, thanks for comprehending that. I need leverage, though." Leverage from the pressure this whole house puts on Zayn. He can cope just fine alone but he's not supposed to be alone on things such as a fundraising scheme. Not one person in the audience is going to know how there was one person on making the life size action figure. Everyone's gonna listen to this tall tale about how everyone collaborated to make such a thing happen. Except, Zayn will be standing there with his cluster of brothers who didn't lend a genuine hand towards making it happen. He loves them—they're family. It's just that he won't share the credit where it isn't due.

"I've acknowledged the fact that V.P's, treasurers, and chairs are supposed to be accustomed to take tasks by the neck." Zayn's arms cross, fingers pinching down his chin. "But there are certain assignments I'm not be assigned to alone on such as this."

"Listen Zayn, sit down with me for a moment." Zayn can feel his eyebrows subconsciously tense at him when Harry gestures for him to sit on his bed. He takes his offer and Harry sits with Zayn afterwards, immediately placing a grip on his thigh. "Let's keep this between you and me."

"Alright." Zayn eyes Harry's hands that suddenly grip the inside of Zayn's thigh while his tongue grazes against the bottom right part of his teeth.

"I trust you a lot. That's why I rely on you." His hands go higher. "I believe in you more than I believe in myself. I depend on you."

Harry must know how Zayn's cheeks are burning by this, just like always with his stupid sweet talk he finds himself running through in his head over and over. He depends on Zayn? Of course Harry has to.

"These guys don't have what you've got. That's why I look to you to get things done."

Zayn hisses, feeling Harry's fingers curl around his crotch. Zayn feels very guilty about being semi-hard already.

"I'm sorry if I've got you thinking like I don't care. I'll make it up to you. Just tell me how."

Maybe a sincere apology for the past few weeks Harry has been treating Zayn so shitty. Or he'll take the one where he wants Harry to feel the pain of revenge buried deep in his inside, say his name like it's the only one that really matters around here.

—

Over and over through the days after Saturday, Zayn has finished an hour each day with the remnants of Harry's sweat and climax over his skin. He feels in the least bit repulsed—this is his president working under his fingertips now. 

Sunday: Mid-morning. They woke up at 8 to do their usual weekly boxing match that Zayn has fallen back into. Zayn was the one who won the spar, and it was his first time. Never has he been so fucking happy. Harry's even admitted that it was his fault he lost. Coming back from the gym, they fucked in the shower as a congratulatory celebration.

Monday: after their executive meeting, they did it in Harry's room. The meeting concluded well overall. Zayn doesn't know why he was all jittery about it. There were no changes brought to Rho's executive's power. They were still able to call charities for the fraternities and sororities so they wouldn't end up broke. Maybe he was jittery because Niall was sitting on the other end of the table.

Tuesday: Harry blew Zayn in the washroom during pledge's third activity, which was hide and seek: serial killer edition.

It was a last minute idea by Harry, but everyone approved of it. Pledges were to hide around the dormitory houses without entering rooms to see how long they can keep themselves until the clock would reach the 20 minute mark. Only, they didn't approach them once they noticed them. They thought it was best to make them believe they didn't see them until the end where Miles—a sophomore who studied from Leeds' prestigious school in UK was found first with Tyler—a highly comedic kind of guy raised from a strict family who forced him to pledge in Rho because of their popular traditions snobby parents love (gotta love the Legacies). He admitted after losing with Miles that he was going to quit until they called that game of hide and seek as one of the tests before initiation. 

For the two losers, they were to sing the chorus of Believe by Cher whenever they heard the campus clock toll. The winners—Liam, Yusuf, and Erin who all decided to hide behind them as they moved around got free dinner that Jordan paid for—a large 4-topping Dominos pizza with wings.

Working around the fraternity was fun while it lasted but those happened after school hours, not counting the 10 minutes Zayn sees Niall everyday. When he'd hiss Zayn's name to get his attention, this whole hurricane of guilt thrashes inside of him.

Surely, its getting worse now.

Hearing Niall call Zayn again, sends him to knit his eyebrows before turning around to give Niall this fake grin on his face. Zayn has grown to like him so there's nothing to fake. He's only saddened to see him be so content when he's gone through the anticipation of seeing Zayn after class, where the feeling isn't mutual. He's overwhelmed with disgust about himself to know he has got the nerve to be doing this behind Rho's back. He wants to be honest. On the other hand, he'll lose whatever they're doing now if he confesses to him that he's been sleeping with Harry. The only thing Zayn can do now is let the guilt run through him so he can feel the consequences that Zayn deserves for his growing admiration for Niall and sleeping with Harry at the same time.

"I can't believe you're making your pledges sing Believe." He shakes his head while he sits across Zayn. Cher is a classic.

They're going to Heis since Zayn has offered to buy him a drink as an apology for having sex with Harry this morning. Not that Niall needs to know—not that he cares either. Besides, it doesn't hurt to spend an extra few minutes out. Niall's happy, Zayn sees it and that makes him feel less heavier than what he originally started with after finishing with Harry.

When they arrived there, Zayn's mood changed completely when he hears this coffee house act. It's a band covering indie music, what's new? It's in his best interest to leave right now after buying Niall what he wanted. Except, Niall's gone and become a part of the audience. Pulling him back, might not do easy against Niall. Sitting back, might not do easy on Zayn.

"We can sit if you want." Zayn audibly tries to make his words reach Niall's ears.

He shakes his head as if he's broken himself from a trance. "Don't you have to go home?"

"I don't mind." Zayn pushes him along to the seats where a group of students began to eye as they walked in.

The past acts haven't been all too bad compared to the ones who play regularly. Zayn is positive they've signed up to and he'd end up caught sitting hear listening to them. He's doing it for Niall who's quite intrigued by it all. He looks bored but Zayn's mighty sure it's just a mask for what he really thinks about the singers and bands.

"I'm going to confess—that we're not a family that screams creativity." Zayn shrugs, continuing their last conversation.

"Your uniform kind of shouts that out." Niall leans forward, eying his letter shirt. Today's button semi-button down shirt's not that bad, in his opinion. The sweaters were much worse. He'd wear this everyday if he could. They're penalized if they do, unfortunately. 

"Dressing well is a form of good manners. You know who said that? Tom Ford." Zayn huffs, flicking his thumb on the tip of his nose. Keeping this laugh in is so hard. Dressing well means someone has got good manners? Zayn contradicts that in many ways, he'll admit.

"That quote is a form of bad manners. You know who said that? Me." Niall grimaces, shaking his finger at Zayn.

"Right. I'm sure."

"I have manners, alright?" He clears his throat. "You may not think so but I do."

"You're correct. I really don't believe you do."

"Ouch." He drones. "Believe whatever you want, I know I've got manners."

"Okay. I'll play along this little game of yours."

Niall chortles, shrugging and shaking his head all at the same time. "How's you and Harry?"

"We're okay." Zayn answers suspiciously quick. Okay meaning they've been fucking ever since he first knocked on the door to his room.

"Sure?"

Fuck. Niall knows everything.

"He apologized on Saturday." Zayn says quickly.

"That's adorable."

"Yeh, whatever." Zayn sighs.

"I'm just askin' for ya sake. I really don't like him."

"It's fine. I don't mind."

"But you're still sleepin' with him."

Is it the smell, the post-sex glow that gave out the clue? "Self-punishment." Zayn shrugs at him.

"It's good. Take what you get, right?" Niall can't believe that he would even dare say sex is punishment.

No. That's not the case. All he ever did was sleep with a few men older than him from bars, ladies who need to get away from their awful husbands—enough to count the times he regrets those nights, especially mothers who share pictures of their children afterwards. Since second year, all he ever did was Harry—that's what he committed himself to. Not even Harry himself—the sex was all good. So he wasn't the big slut as what's defined. But he's never been one to settle for someone, and think nothing but wanting to spend time with them.

"Yeah," Zayn agrees. Take what you can get.

The crazy thing is, he doesn't care if the whole place is staring because everyone knows it's almost forbidden for Kappa and Rho to associate. Lucas and Jordan were excused because they were friends long before they joined different fraternities. This could have him suspended by Harry's authority—if the higher executives allowed it.

His chest drops when he hears Niall's laugh when he says, "Exactly. So it isn't all that bad."

"Nope." Zayn shakes his head.

"Zayn," Niall shakes his head. "If it sucks, you could just tell me. I have a friend—bad girl if you like'em."

He won't because it doesn't. It's moderate but Niall's not his go-to when things are though. They're close friends who kiss each other as thank you's. And he has no idea why Niall's trying to set him up with someone else.

"Um, I'm working at the studio tonight." Zayn found out he's not fired at all, even when he hasn't worked for the entirety of september and october. "You can come with me, if you want."

"What are you doing there?"

"I'm supposed to paint something." Zayn shrugs. "I get paid $200 if I do it well and by Friday."

"What have you thought of?"

"Impression."

"How easy."

"They want it simple." Zayn snorts. "I might manipulate it around a bit not to scam them and all."

"Just don't wear those goddamned letters." Niall's had enough of their sweaters and long sleeves stitched with PE and RHO EPSILON.

"I might, for you." Zayn shrugs a shoulder.

"Oh, that's sweet." Niall bats his eyelashes.

"Fuck off." Zayn quietly laughs.

Zayn's phone rings and it forces him to excuse himself to go outside to answer. His lips tighten when he answers to Harry.

"Yeah." Zayn grumbles mellow-tone.

"How are you not home yet?" He asks.

"I'm at Heis."

"Doing what?"

"It's coffee house." Besides that, what else does someone do at a coffee house? To get coffee, no shit.

"You're actually watching the bands?" Harry laughs.

"Yeah. It's not too bad." Zayn shrugs even though Harry can't see. "What d'ya need?"

"You, of course."

"Did you listen to what I said? I'm at the coffee house."

"You told me you hate that place. And yet, you're there for what purpose exactly?"

"I'm leaving soon but I'm going straight to the studio." Zayn bites his gums. "I'm just buying coffee really."

"So we can't—"

"We already did this morning." Harry's so unbelievably needy.

"I like forbidden fruit."

"Thanks, I guess. I have to go."

There's a way to get out of this daily intimate arrangement with Harry and Zayn going to search high and low for it. He just don't know where to start.

Zayn gets back to Niall who's drink is half way close to finished. He's in the same position the last Zayn left him, still with a deadpan face until Zayn sits back down in his seat where the two of them clap in unison as the act finished.

Niall looks at Zayn before pushing his drink aside. "So, what'd he want?" It peeves Zayn how he knows it's Harry. It disgusts Zayn how it's Harry in the first place just wanting him home for sex.

"Um, me home." Zayn crinkles his nose in distaste. 

"You going?" He wipes the corner of his lips, remaining casual.

"No, I'm not going." This wasn't the original idea in the beginning of the day. Zayn thought twenty minutes after school with Niall would suffice. And he would end up going home to sleep before dropping by the studio at 7 to start the requested order. Zayn thinks this is better. He couldn't let Niall know—without even trying to be secretive that Zayn would be leaving and Zayn would be too busy because of Harry.

"Ah," He raises his eyebrows with a grin growing on his face. "What time should I meet you at the studio then?"

"We could go together." Zayn laughs. "We can stay here as long as you'd like."

He grimaces, bringing the straw to his lips. "It's disgustin' to see you so nice. You really should tone it down—I like you more of an asshole."

"Right," Zayn snorts, watching the regular band that usually plays at here. "Then let me change my mind, I don't want to stay here."

"Uhhh... Your letter." He raises his eyebrows at Zayn's emblem crest on his chest. "You better have a change of clothes in your bag."

Zayn leans himself closer to Niall's ear, barely inches away from having his lips brush Niall's ear. Zayn might just run out of ways to get Niall to do things the way he's so persistent.

"Then you should take it off. I know you'd like that." Zayn's voice came out husky against the area of where Niall's side burns should be but considering he's so hairless, that's a vocabulary that shouldn't exist with him.

"Fuck off." He shakes his head with a grin. "I'm the one supposed to be hitting on you."

"I'll confess," Zayn tilts his head so the tip of his nose nuzzles in the curled end of Niall's hair before his ear with Zayn's top lip pressing near against the curve of his jaw. "It was fun when you did." Zayn finds himself knuckling Niall's ribs.

He pushes out a rush of air from his nose of wryness. "I don't sound it but, I'm begging for you to stop." He laughs abruptly.

Zayn snorts before he pulls back from Niall.

"On second thought, let's go early." Niall pushed himself up from the chair.

On their way to the studio, Zayn can feel the corners of his smokes on his thigh, digging down to lift itself up from his pocket.

He usually only smokes when he's on his break at the diner. That's where most of his stress comes from and now since Rho's stressing him out, he has snuck two smokes.

"Don't tell me you're smoking." Niall notices with a twist on his face when Zayn pulls it out of his pocket.

"I—uhm, moving it out." Zayn digs it down in his back pocket with him lightening up. He wants to really badly, feeling the addiction kicking in. Seeing how Niall's got this hatred for it, Zayn decides to hold off and let the urge pass away. It's making him edgy. For some reason, he doesn't want Niall walking ahead to leave him smoking behind. Since when did Zayn care not to even smoke around anyone?

Zayn didn't need to use his keys to get in, seeing how there's people working now. They all say hi each other from time to time, checking what each other has done. Then they would be back to their own studio. The doors to the studios have a big window on them where anyone is able to see that it's just an open space. Avoiding any attention from anyone if they walk by isn't going to be happening so easily. Privacy doesn't exist anywhere.

Not all of the studios are for anyone. They've got machines for the glass warping, pressing machine, and rooms for welding and such if anyone needs to just like Zayn does with his figure. In today's case, that wasn't Zayn's need for today. He can't even do any half of those, even though people make really sick stuff from it.

"This is a cool place." Niall walks around.

"Has cool stuff too." Zayn tosses his bag underhand against the wall, before stretching his arms up.

He starts off by picking up the canvas and setting it on an easel. This is terribly hard if he doesn't have an actual proper view—unless he looks outside. He positions the easel facing the massive windows looking out to the little park beside the studio. Sadly, it's overcast and Zayn's got no inspiration to paint something beautiful on a dull day.

He starts anyways, running the brush down on the canvas for the colours of the grass. And that's about it, probably. There's a few trees here and there and a few people sitting at the benches. There's really no life happening here at all. It's near winter and all the leaves are disappearing

"Fuck." Zayn groans, noticing the oil on his sleeve. It's three quarters up his arm, Zayn doean't get how it's stained. "Uh, Niall. Take off my shirt."

"What?" He asks beyond Zayn's expectations of his curiosity, still peered on his phone.

"I have paint on my hands, I can't do it. I can't ruin this letter."

"Oh, fuck me." He breathes out just as he gets up. "This is what happens when you have to wear a uniform."

Zayn tosses his brush down to the newspaper before raising his arms up above his head with Niall pulling the edges of Zayn's shirt up. His arms go back down as he finishes, noticing his expression on his face of irritation. Zayn finds himself laughing and Niall's back sitting down on his chair with an exhale.

"Now, everyone will see a half naked man painting them." Niall looks down at his phone, searching through a list of articles he wants to read.

"Like that's not a view they wish to see." Zayn paints his easel practically green as a power smoothie. 

"And I'm the arrogant one." Niall scoffs.

In about an hour, Zayn gets more different versions of green on. It isn't precise but the value of the grass and trees works. The people sitting on the benches with their dog isn't intricate either but it all works. 

He likes the quietness of the studio, loves Niall's music playing quietly in the background. Zayn hasn't had a day where everyone's mouth is shut. He wants to sleep but he needs to get at least what he can on this canvas before Friday so he could come in and add a few more tweaks and adjustments to the painting. It's really shit. The window shows a grey sky but Zayn painted it pink and orange.

He dropped his brushes after about an hour and a half, just to see Niall's head on his bag, eyes shut, shoulders slowly rising after each breath. It took him a few minutes to clean everything up, wear the extra shirt he brought in his bag and stuff his letter inside. He's hoping there's actually no stain on it or Harry will be on his case about messing around.

"You done?" Niall groans quietly. Zayn must've woken him up when Zayn put the easel back against the side of the cabinet.

"Sorry, yeah." Zayn's careful when he takes a step away from the balancing contraption. "Must be bored right now."

"It's fine. The painting looks great." Niall grins through his wooziness. He stands up, pinching his new t-shirt so he could see the details. "Even _this_ looks great, because the other one was horrifically ugly."

Zayn looks down at his 'cutie pie' shirt. It's got a blonde babe in pig tails which is cute until you see the samurai sword she's holding. Reminds him of Harley Quinn.

Zayn's starting to think this is all some sort of tactic when Niall leans in to kiss him between the seam of his lips, and pulls back to ask, "Movie?"

Yes almost rolls out of his tongue if he didn't want to keep going. He shakes his head, pressing a hard kiss over his top lip before Niall accepts the next few ones, returning the sweet kisses. His hands make its way on Zayn's body, the curve of his waist fitting perfectly with Niall's big and firm hands.

"You'd really make a good boyfriend if we ever dated." Niall tilts his head more to the left, letting the opening of his mouth stay against Zayn's, their tongues graze against each other before closing in between each other. Zayn finds is hard to keep the urge of letting his tongue caress extendedly compared to Niall's. He'd would pull earlier away from Zayn than he would with him. And Niall would make it up the next second, pushing closer on as he lets his bottom lip purse out for Zayn to meet against before he'd feel his top against Zayn's.

"When is the last time you had one?" Niall's eyebrows knit. He can't believe he's asking for the last time. Zayn's got people left and right.

"My last one was Alex." Zayn lifts a brow. He sucks Niall's lips, tasting the espresso off of them.

"Oh, that sucks." Niall nipped his swell lips. "So movie?"

"Why not?"

—

They were amongst a large crowd in the movie theatre. That is what happens when the movie choice is one of the movies involved in a large franchise. The second part of Mockingjay has all the action involved. The first one nearly put Niall to sleep. He was there for the action phase of the rebellion. Even so, that's what Zayn thought because his attention was fixed on the screen too. Even if all Katniss screams is Peeta's name.

If anyone saw the way they were sitting, they'd be disgusted of the public display of close affection. It was an action film, involving murder and rebellions—someone should be off their seat—not glued to it like Niall's leaning against the arm rest to be embraced by Zayn's arm.

Really, what is all of this? It felt normal—nothing to read in between the lines. Niall likes comfort and affection, so does Zayn. Zayn likes sex, Niall gave it to him occasionally—once... It was only once. Between his best friends, they were never that close.

It was Zayn's turn; he felt Niall's hand rubbing circles on the small of his back, pressure breaking through his black bomber jacket as they left the theatre. Niall kept pushing him to finish the popcorn, and Zayn really couldn't insist. There was too much butter on certain spots he didn't want to risk. A few melted in his mouth and it was like someone had already put it in their mouth and spitted it back out.

It was making his head hurt. Were they just friends or something more? Being something more isn't anything Zayn minds. He can't promise it would last and maybe that's the answer. They were just supposed to be friends. 

Ever since his third year started, the pressure grew. He went from social chair to Vice President in a month, promised a metal sculpture to light up like the one portrayed in the movie, Harry's words embedded in his mind like a conditioning scheme—all the more reason not to care if he's with Kappa's vice president three times a week. The attention, the affection—he loved it all that it was from somebody new, somebody who's getting to know more of him, someone who his whole family of brothers will hate, feeding Zayn with their anger. He's content Harry isn't just someone to go to anymore. There's someone else, and that's every level and every kinds of wrong.

"As innocent as I look," Niall starts off, and Zayn immediately looks up. "I could use that to my very advantage to murder at least 6 of the contestants of the hunger games before I get killed myself."

Not sure if that's arrogant or an actual speculation. "I think I'll be the one hunted down to death." Zayn bumps his hip against Niall. "Don't you think so?"

"Hm," Niall looks at him carefully. Eyes moving left and right, up and down, and all over his face before he smiles. Zayn could just smile back too if it didn't make him look so desperate.

"It's the intimidating look you have that'll put you up as the lion's meal of the ring." Niall continues to stare, eyes slightly narrowing when he looks at his cheekbones. "But that's the sad thing because, you're definitely not the murderous type."

"Says the innocent one."

"It's psychology, Zayn." Niall laughs with more air than a boisterous sound cracking from his lungs. "The innocent one is definitely not innocent at all. It's that kind of mindset that'll get you killed."

"So, the intimidating one would be a suspect and a target altogether, but they're really not."

"There's always a neutral." Niall shrugs, nodding at Zayn. 

"Would you team up with me?" Zayn lifts an eyebrow.

Niall stays quiet. He must actually be thinking about this question.

"You'd bring a lot of attention, same time push away attention." Niall's hand slides around to Zayn's waist. "But as pity for the lack of brawns on the battlefield, I would."

"Sure. Pity." Zayn licks his molar tooth at the back of his jaw, smirk unfolding.

"Don't kid me, Zayn." Niall grimaces. "It is for pity."

"Alright." Zayn laughs.

He pecks his cheek out of nowhere. In the middle of their walk, he just had to. He doesn't push hard against his cheekbone; it's just soft enough for Niall to stop walking and grip Zayn's jacket. 

Zayn can feel the fuzz of his cheeks and hear his laugh that he's trying to put off as a scoff He'd close the proximity between their mouths next, if it wasn't for Harry and Anthony standing there.

A night ruined. This is it.

“Oh, this is _so_ screwed up.” Niall scoffs exasperatedly, Zayn's face pressed against his temple as Zayn looks from the corner of his eyes.

Harry grins at Zayn with Anthony who gave a nod at him which he returned the same way. Zayn never expected their presence around here, but it is Friday. But fuck, Anthony could care less what the hell just happened, and just smother Zayn questions in regards to why it's Niall—why Kappa out of all people. On the other hand, Harry would act as if he's national security and interrogate Zayn down to the bone. It smells of irony in here.

“So, what movie did you watch?” Anthony breaks the silence and stare-off between Niall and Harry.

“The second part of Mockingjay.” Zayn says. If anybody knows anything, it's Zayn—and this wasn't definitely against the rules. He's not going to get shit for the fact that Niall's been hanging around with him; it's his decision if Zayn wants him around and he really does. Of course, Harry didn't; Zayn will get shit from him for sure. His loyalty might be on the line as well.

“Well, hola Harry.” Niall swings his arm mockingly towards Harry who's still keeping this sadistic grin on display.

“Hey Niall.” Harry waves weakly. “How's Louis?”

“Good, thanks for askin'.” Niall grimaces.

Zayn had no clue what to feel about this. The two face to face for ten minutes would cause the world to concave and eat itself. It would be definitely horrific if it ever came to Louis and Harry. Zayn knows Harry's pulling this fallacy on every one that he, is only aware and familiar with. He can't speak for Niall. He's always been straightforward, avoiding the sugar coating of things. Sure he's greeting Harry, smiling at him, acknowledging the fact that he exists but this is just how he starts off before slamming anyone down. He's done it with Zayn; he’s gone through it all before. Not that he ever enjoyed it.

“Awkward!” Anthony yells, causing Harry to turn his head abruptly.

“Thanks, you dip shit.” Niall narrows his eyes at Anthony, shaking his head rhetorically. Oh, how he'd want to punch everyone in the face but he can't; even though he could. Zayn's here and the last thing anyone needs is Zayn pissed at everyone. It's not that he's a living volcano who's got the potential to screw everyone up. No one wants Zayn pissed at them. They just don't want it. “Say something else you think is so necessary.” Niall adds and Zayn's eyebrows rise.

He's never seen this side Niall's got embed within. He's been friendly and polite with Zayn. His version anyway. It slipped out of his mind how blunt he is to people who annoy him, and his potential to really fight. Hearing it now and comparing his dialogue with his own, he realizes how rude Niall could get without any boundaries.

Thank God, Zayn is on his good side now.

“I'm just sayin'!” Anthony laughs.

He scoffs with his eyes bulging out. Self-control was all that's saving Niall from punching Anthony out. “No one asked for your fucking input now, did we?”

“Uh, Niall.” Zayn taps his wrist.

“Sorry.” He sighs.

Zayn shakes his head before taking the opportunity to look at Harry whose expression is ever so dry. “Did you guys watch anything?" Zayn blurts and he lights up. If Harry didn't know Zayn for four years as he does, he'd make Zayn's life a living hell. Sucks to say though, Harry has been pushing Zayn to the Gates of hell lately.

“Saw Burnt. Couldn't be a better day to see it than this.” Harry scoffs. Zayn has no response building in his head. He could say what's been in his mind all this time and cause a whole argument against the household and president himself or keep his mouth shut and have his peace with everyone. That second one's a pretty good choice.

“Load of thick shit.” Niall intervenes with Anthony laughing. “We all know what we know. You don't need to pretend.”

Sometimes Zayn's thankful that Niall is intuitive. Always having some kind of opinion and saying it out loud that saves Zayn from coming up what to say next. He would be obligated to respond and that lifts a whole load of Zayn who's got not much to say. And right now, is different because he doesn't. More or less, Zayn just wants him to shut his mouth before everything escalates. But everyone knows Niall has something already ready to say.

“That's a good tip, Niall. Thanks.” Harry smiles with his teeth showing. He's really mad now. Harry is not entirely a brute; so he's not one to even think of throwing a punch here and there unless he's sparring or practicing boxing. And he has seen ad felt his punches—nobody would want them. His only way to respond to such a thing would be to do it snidely. "Zayn's great, isn't he?”

Anthony and Zayn's are somehow wired to sync as both of their mouth gape. They can feel the tension digging down the pores of their skins. And it isn't good. A fight with Rho and Kappa is never a good thing.

Niall shrugs dryly. “Yeah, he's fucking perfect.”

“Well, Jesus!” Anthony blurts as his clap cracks like lightning. Zayn's actually interested to hear what Niall had to say. But Anthony was right to stop it; Zayn just wishes he didn't. “This is like an episode of Big Brother. Somewhat.”

Zayn's eyes blink open wide, playfully frowning. “Anthony, don't condone this.” As much as he wants to give the fighting ring to Niall and Harry.

Harry forces a laugh out. “Now I know why Zayn hated you in the first place.”

Then, no one was laughing anymore. Zayn's expression went gloomy when Niall's body relaxed. Not the good kind of relax people want to be doing.

What the fuck is Harry doing? Zayn knows Harry's got his boundaries but this must be the farthest he's set them. It's not like Niall wasn't aware that Zayn hated him before things got to this level. Zayn just didn't want him to be so sure that it's true because it's not. Zayn might have exaggerated these past few years on it. He doesn't grudges ever so hard. He may hold them for a while but they're as weak as a string holding on weights. He always thought of something for Niall; always wished he'd talk to him more throughout the year instead of having hi's-and-bye's with a dick type of comment to follow after. All Zayn really hates is how he likes someone such as Niall—the parallel of his hidden persona.

Things got quiet at this point. Niall's focused on something Zayn wants to read but can't seem to. Niall's troubled but he's also clouded with disconsolation. And he's playing with his lips to make it seem like something else. Harry's stopped smiling now, replaced with a scowl.

“Chill, boys.” Anthony says something Zayn can't even find himself to say.

“No no, it's alright.” Niall shakes his head. “Harry can say whatever he likes. I'm leaving anyways. Good to see you, Zayn. Thanks for the help.”

Just like that, Niall's gone and walked away, ignoring the unbroken glare of Harry. All of them stayed until Niall turned at the corner of the street. When he disappeared, they acknowledge each other again. The two stare at Zayn like it's somehow his fault that this happened. Had he known they were gonna come around this place, he would've denied Niall's invitation to watch a movie today. He can't seem to forget the time they had alone ten minutes ago but it's being pushed away out of his mind, when he's just going through the last few minutes when everyone was here altogether again.

Harry sighs, looking around their environment. Harry has the right to be angry with Zayn. Being friends with each other since they joined Rho and Zayn doesn't tell him his deepest secrets.

“Might I ask, what kind of a stunt were you trying to pull to tell him something like that?” Zayn crosses his arms at Harry. Finally, something that's needed to be asked.

“I was just playing.” He flicks his nose with his thumb. "He should know that. He plays around all the fucking time."

“I-I don't _even_ know anymore.” Anthony cuts in. “I hate to say this but you should probably go run after him or something.”

“What the hell? Zayn, don't tell me you're gonna do it.” Harry quips.

Zayn shrugs. He might just be crazy to. He stares at Anthony with a careless shake of his shoulders with a glum kind of expression. This was his permission to Zayn and he walks past them. Zayn can hear Harry complaining behind him. His pace quickens until he knew that he's running after some lad who's already got a head start. Knowing how far Niall's ahead and how pissed Harry is, Zayn would've just called. But he knows how much of a 'fuck you' that would be and now his lungs are burning. He can take his lungs burning over being an asshole to Niall.

It's dark and there were a few people in the streets. No one resembles Niall and Zayn's losing air just as fast as a space shuttle leaving the atmosphere. There's no point in running if he's already gone. He's lagging behind on his own accord and it's all of this on his back. He knows he can't blame Harry and Anthony, aware of how irresponsible it is of him to blame everything on the distractions than himself.

As soon as he saw somebody that looks like Niall, he shouts, "Hey!" Zayn puffs out with his lips tightening together into a smile after. He's just down the street on the other side of the sidewalk—meaning there in more running.

Luckily it was him and he wasn't making a fool of himself. "Idiot, what are you doing here?" Niall shoves Zayn on his shoulder.

“Never did I speculate that you'd be so sensitive.” Zayn laughs before placing his hands on either side of his waist as he catches his breath.

“Shut the fuck up. I only left because I knew somethin' like that was gonna happen.” He slaps Zayn on his chest.

“Behave, will you? Harry's just mad because I've been avoiding him.” Zayn pinches his bottom lip.

“Or the fact that he loves you.” Niall shrugs, muttering a few incoherent words after. Probably cursing Harry's name.

Zayn grimaces at Niall as he crosses his arms. “Harry? No. Maybe infatuated. None of us know what the hell that is. He doesn't.” Zayn laughs half-heartedly, taking in the cold breeze that's been welcomed into the city tonight. Harry in love? Zayn doubts that altogether. He has love for sex, he's got love for drinking, but to another person? Zayn believes he's not himself if that were to ever happen.

“Because he shows it differently than everybody else.” Niall says. “When'd you meet him?”

“First year, when we both signed up for Rho.”

“When'd you start sleeping together?”

“Late second year." After he and Alex broke up. "I don't see how relevant it is.”

“Am I gonna be really pointing everything out?" Niall scowls. He looks really pissed. "Zayn, check your priorities alright?"

Zayn scoffs, putting his hand behind his neck. “I came to see if you were ok.”

“I'm alright. It's just—I might start buying cigarettes.” He rubs his face, pressing the inner corner of his eyes. “I've got the worst temper next to Louis.” He then sighs looking back down the street. “Why don't you go back? You're supposed to be with Rho. We can't keep walking around, all irresponsible. We're both fucking vice presidents."

"So you want this to stop?" His voice is flat and unquestioning. He suspects his answer already.

There's a loud sigh afterwards. "Kappa needs me and I can't do my job if I'm always around you." Niall mutters. 

He didn't expect that one.

"Alright then." His eyebrows raise in bewilderment; though he felt rather calm. Niall doesn't want to hang out anymore? He can do that, no problem. "Goodbye, Horan." He walks past him, gripping his shoulder before he starts to leave.

"Z-Zayn, I—" Niall sighs.

"Just doing what's best for the both of us."

For once, Zayn's disappointed—and he is in no mood to talk. And he went back like he's supposed to, arriving back home to Rho where all of them expected his arrival. The news must have arrived fairly quickly, but the quicker news that should have arrived is that it never began.

—

When Zayn woke up to the next day; things felt different. Then he realized Harry hasn't bothered him for a quick blowjob or quick fuck that morning. But it'd only be three days that Zayn would have nothing requested upon him until the fourth where Harry would ask Zayn for that favour. But he's not thankful; somehow, he really needed somebody now.

He saw Niall Wednesday and that was only in their Psychology class. Zayn never saw him again after, or heard from him after. He barely spoke to Zayn during their lecture  but it's difficult to in the first place without having other people around them hear. Niall was a section row higher; leaning down was his best chance to talk to Zayn. But he didn't and the two worked in class without conversing.

Zayn and Niall would walk home together; with Niall making it home before Zayn because they were three doors earlier than Zayn's. Yet, they didn't—the whole entire time. Zayn believed Niall just wanted to get out quick because he was tired and that was understandable.

During the weekend, Nu hosted a party and invited each house and then some students from the campus. Zayn came in hopes of seeing Niall there but he never did see his face there. He saw Louis who shot him a look of curiosity but that was it for Zayn before he went home wasted.

He chose to wait a few days to walk with Niall but that's when he sort of accepts it that he was being blatantly ignored, like this is honestly happening. When he saw him, he barely acknowledged Zayn—like all the other days. He did say at some point that his phone would be off and that he'd be too busy with Kappa to do anything. That doesn't mean to stop talking altogether. Not even once did they say a hi or goodbye. 

Zayn had done lots of work in the studio with all the time he's saved not being bothered by Harry and associating with Niall. He could confess how dead it was without Niall there. With his replacement, he invited Liam and Eggsy to keep him company. Their company was great but not as great to distract Zayn that much off his work like Niall has the ability whenever Zayn brought him.

He was losing it altogether not talking to Niall, not realizing how much time he's spent with him behind Rho's back. The thought of ringing his phone occurred a few times but he always reminded himself that he didn't want to be bothered, that the cold shoulder was on purpose.

Zayn ended up finishing his work for the fraternity; even worked hard on giving everybody's task of the month, which was to type a report about a topic that the school would be concerned about.  Two meetings were held concerning about the fundraising in three weeks and the one coming up after in February and April which the sororities were in charge of. Rho and Kappa were still obligated to help out and all Rho was appointed to do was make arrangements for prizes. They do this carnival thing every year and its odd how they go all out with Ferris wheels, spinning tea cups, and all those other things. It's Coney Island 2.0 without a roller coaster.

Still, Niall never left his mind and Zayn's beginning to feel irate about the lack of communication or why his mind is making such a big deal about this. Niall never skips class; neither does he go disappearing, especially being the VP of Kappa. He had to be out. They're not dating but Zayn thought they were so close to being whatever it is that they are. But if he was to fuck up like this then maybe it was best that they don't.

He began to go to Harry again; stayed beside him longer, watched Harry sleep for a few minutes before he'd fall back asleep too. There was nothing to feel between him and Harry. He felt nothing but guilt doing this to him. Harry's never admitted any kind feelings to Zayn but he's realizing that it might just be true that he's in love with Zayn. All he could do for Harry is just be there for him sexually.

“Switch it on.” Eggsy says, closing the battery pocket of the Iron Man.

Liam moves the switch forward, sending the Iron Man to light up from his palm, eyes, and chest. Everyone exhales; dropping onto the floor as they stare at Iron Man. Zayn is happy it's working now. They've been in the studio for at least three hours trying to light up Iron Man. Wrong wiring, worn out test light bulbs, broken switches—it was much of a struggle for them which Zayn can't really repay so easily.

“Beautiful.” Liam sighs out. “Works like a giant nightlight. Nice job, Zayn.”

“It doesn't have a purpose right? It just stands here?” Eggsy asks and Zayn nods as he moves his hair out of his face.

“Imagine if it comes to life.” Liam snorts.

“Reminder that we used LED and not the Teseract to power this up.” Zayn sighs before closing his eyes. “So it won't.”

“You really are a fucking geek.” Eggsy laughs.

Everyone had their eyes closed. Three hours on wiring and yelling, putting everyone through an ache—he's finally finished.

—

It's the coldest day of the year and it's only the last week of November. Why everyone was at O'Den's is very overwhelming; they never have a line up for tables that lead outside. Everyone must be craving soup. He's got tips left and right, three smoke breaks before he could accept the stress of today isn't going to get any better after the fourth cigarette. Jordan dropped by with Peter to pick up dinner which really burnt the fuck out of the kitchen staff's energy.

What's even worse is that he's closing. He smells like five layers of sweat with dirt caked under his nails and all he really wants is a bath. A shower is quick but it wouldn't help Zayn find his comfort zone in the clouds. 

He's got the tables wiped down, cash counted and stored, and he's good to make his way home but all he could do is sit in a booth and catch his breath for a minute.

He hears a knock on the door, and he unlocks it for Leigh before she could come in with a hug and hot chocolate for him.

"Your texts were pretty sad." Leigh pulls out a small paper bag with a cookie in it. "Was it really that bad today?"

"Lots of people, wrong orders, my back hurts." Zayn groans.

Leigh's nice enough to dig her thumb into the muscles of his shoulder while he drinks the hot chocolate heating up his insides up. It doesn't last long enough because Leigh persuades him to finally go home. It's 12AM, he couldn't believe she stayed around for him. No one would ever stick around that late for him—not Harry even if he claimed he'll stay up for him.

And he just isn't in the mood for the unexpected appearance from Niall walking outside. If anything, Zayn didn't hate him at all. He was right about distractions and being irresponsible; there wasn't enough work being put in at his side, no effort to work with the council because all he ever focused on was the present and not what he's supposed to do for the future.

It's almost like the image of him in his head has almost disappeared. Zayn barely recognized him with his red cap on backwards.

"What are you doing here?" Straining his eyes, he's not sure what to do at all.

"I thought I should come by—say hi when you were all done." Niall has this gentle smile, and it hurts him to see the pity and applogy that comes with it.

"I'm just on my way home now. Thanks, I think." Zayn scoffs. Now that he thinks about it, sleep sounds way better than a bath. A quick shower to take off the grime, then then he'll go into bed right away. He digs his pocket deeper into his jacket, feet shifting against frozen dirt. 

"Let me take you home." Niall offers all of the sudden. Zayn just looks up confused, Leigh way more confused than Zayn.

But Leigh's observant. She listens fairly well enough to know how hard it is for Zayn to answer because the only answer he has for that after two weeks is yes.

"I go the other way." Leigh lets her lips curve in. "I'll see you later." Leigh gripped Zayn's hand, assuring everything would be alright.

Leigh is the only Zayn's talked to about Niall's sudden decision to stop hanging out. He couldn't tell anybody else when all they hear from Zayn's mouth is Kappa demons.

Walking home made Zayn's heart thud against his chest. He wishes he wasn't, knowing how ridiculously stupid he would be to forgive Niall after being ignored for two weeks. It hurt him like the way Harry said he was becoming a terrible VP. It became a reality, or it was just always there to be seen about him.

From the front door of Rho Episilon, that is as far as Niall could go. If he got over the window then it's a different story and a whole new situation he'll end up shaking from. 

"I'm sorry." Niall mutters his first words since they left O'Den's—before Zayn they got to the door. "I'll see you around."

"Yeah." Zayn had his keys already in his hands. All he wants to do is get the door open, which doesn't take him more than a few seconds. It's dark inside—expects the boys to be out all night until 4am. 

"Uh, actually. I-It's been kind of different without any of this." Niall continues. The goodbye is a cue for him to leave. He still has a foot on the patio with the other on the step. A smart thing for him to do is to have both his feet on the steps.

"If you want to hear how right you are about spending way too much time together, you are. And that's all you'll get out of me." Zayn opens the door, pulling his keys out, and pockets it back in his jacket.

"That's not what I'm here for at all." Niall retorts.

"Then what are you here for?" Zayn asks. "Can't possibly be because you want in. You aren't allowed."

"I know what I did was wrong." Niall's got both his feet on that patio which isn't what Zayn wanted at this point. Yes, he was feeling angry. He felt dormant, until he saw his face and heard his voice and truly, that's why he hates him. And now, he's really got something to hate him for.

"I didn't want anybody to think anything was going on." Niall continues. "I-I was afraid this was happening so fast, and—"

"But they're correct. Nothing is going on." Zayn narrows his eyes at Niall. "I don't know what made you think there was anything. This was just all out of spite against Harry. I would never date you."

His eyes widened, subtle not to make a big deal of, subtle that Niall heard him completely loud and clear for him to go down the steps.

"You know what, me neither." Niall grimaces. "I think I was just doing a selfless favour, save everyone from your kind of trouble." 

If he wasn't counting up to ten, controlling his anger like the good man he should, campus security would roll up by their house to find them rolling on the floor, punching and shoving—bleeding lips, black eye, and a concussion provided all by Zayn. Definitely, hates Niall. Definitely never wants to see him again.

—

Zayn had only mentioned the fight to Harry when he was in Zayn's room, sucking him out while Zayn played around with his hand in his hair—had nothing else to talk about other than the fight that heats his face up in irritation. Other than that, there was nobody else in the list of people Zayn went out to talk to. So it doesn't explain why the feud between Rho and Kappa suddenly erupted through this entire week.

Rho has managed to sabotage at least two of Kappa's hazes which all Zayn could think of was illegal. But then again, the most reading Kappa could have ever done is the subtitles to movies. They had given the pledges the two opportunities to prove to Rho why they deserve to be in Rho if they sabotaged Kappa.

Sadly, it was the hits back that always hurt the most. It all started when Rho's house got trashed and vandalized. The Dean had begun an investigation on it until she realized how rich Rho was, that they didn't need anybody investigating anything for them which is probably wrong as a figure of authority. Then they hit Kappa by cutting off the heat from their water and the house itself. They were glad to have Engineers in Rho.

Then it really kicked off when some pledge thought it'd be funny to oil the gym mats up that they train on for boxing. Wasn't funny when it was Eggsy's day to train and they sent pledges to oil his mats up. They went home bruised. He has to practice some way.

Zayn was surprised nobody was getting any social probations. That might be really stupid considering the chapters of this university bring the most income. They also spend a lot but it's a sacrifice all must go through.

While this was all happening, Zayn was in his room working on papers to fill out for the monthly reports. He definitely had more time on his hands to mind his own business and do work for the fraternity. Occasionally, Harry will bother him out of his room for food. Sometimes he goes, most often he doesn't. The nicest thing Harry can do is bring home food and eat in his room together.

From time to time he thinks about Niall, and then Harry reminds him how life is better without him. Then he'll fall asleep with Harry on his mind, and it almost seems better than way.

—

Zayn doesn't like the snow that comes around Portland. It irritates him—his boots aren't made for high millimeters of snow, they're really only made for sidewalk-covered snow—not a 7-layer cake of snow. Not to mention he hates the salt residue it leaves around the ankle of his jeans.

At least there aren't any more midterms, and he only has 2 exams coming up in two weeks—there isn't anything more beautiful than that. Except the charity Christmas Banquet for the school, hosted by the chapters of the Fraternities and Sororities. Zayn's date couldn't be none other than Leigh, who's gold gown makes the whole room's jaw drop. The way it sparkles makes him think it's a mermaid dress—how imaginative. Most of the money given to come to this banquet will be donated to a charity of the raffle winner's choice. The other half is to pay for the hall food, drinks, and giveaways. 

Zayn's sitting at a table with Harry and Eggsy, plus their dates whom Zayn doesn't bother to learn their names. Not like Zayn's going to be dancing with them anyway.

On the other hand, he looks at the round table of Kappa—stealing short glances of Kappa, with a particular person whose suit is tight and fitted just right. Zayn doesn't care about him. Even when he prefers really fitting suits anyway, he will try his best not to care at all. The idiot is huddled with all the other boys of Kappa, probably bouncing mints onto the table before it could bounce into a glass of water. 

"Typical." Harry sneers. His date looks unbothered and bored. "Would anyone like to dance?” 

Aside the Christmas spirit and jingle bells, they're playing _Act A Fool_ by _Yung Ralph_ and all the girls of Theta and Nu are dancing on the open floor. Everyone else is a big disappointment. Something about Zayn is that he can’t dance and he’s accepted it. There are moments he let the music rule his body and everyone cheered for him—it was when alcohol helped him out and built his confidence up.

Zayn raised his hand, and got up with Leigh because he wasn’t going to let this night go to waste.

Zayn's got half the bottle in him that was put on their table; cheeks as hot as California's summers, and throbbing as hard as his heart. If someone told him his cheeks have a heartbeat, he'd believe them. He's made it ten minutes without letting his confidence dropping. Thanks to Leigh, he was just following her moves with her hips and arms. Around them, he watched people grinding against each other. One girl’s back on Jordan while she leans her head back against his shoulders. And it made him laugh when Jordan stuck his tongue out at Zayn.

At least Harry wasn’t thinking about Kappa anymore. He was careful and sweet with his date who seems to be smiling now. He holds her hand, spinning her carefully before he pulled her in. There was a lot of action between the sororities and fraternities—but it’s all for fun. Rarely any of them dated each other, except Jesy and Jake—the real kind of sweethearts.

Sweat is forming on his forehead and he’s already stripped himself of his formal jacket, and he’s left in his white button down. There’s nothing left to take off. It’s all in the same time when he noticed Kappa’s actually on the floor when Louis is on Lucas’ shoulders, pumping their fists to _Gold Slugs_ by _Dj Khaled_. Unbelievable. 

Leigh holds Zayn’s shoulder while her other hands wave left and right. He’s got his hands on her waist, going at her pace and movement, listening to her scream the lyrics. Everyone should be friends with Leigh; she knows every song out there and she’s got moves to seduce any man if she wants, but there’s something fishy about letting any kind of man getting her. Or a man in the first place.

He feels a hand on the curve of his waist and he’s praying no one would do anything behind his back because all his attention’s on Leigh. Suddenly, they’re not in the same page anymore. Perrie stepped in, moving her hips the same way like Leigh, getting closer to her even. It’s not his fault he’s rigid.

The hand on his waist is pulling him until their chin is hooked on his shoulder, his back fitting to the one dancing against him. He wasn’t expecting to smell the sharpness of peppermint gum chewing close to his ear or the smile pressing into his neck. He knows who this is. He can tell by the smell of the peppermint and the aggravated glares from Kappa. Then there's Rho who whistle like crazy men.

“Is this a joke? Zayn on the floor?” Harry chews his gum obnoxiously right at his ear. 

“I’m drunk.” Zayn slurs.

“Explains that.” 

“Dance?”

“Aren’t we?"

Zayn winces. "How about your date?"

"Doesn't mind."

Self-control isn't his strength; not when they're very deep into the crowd and Harry makes his first move by turning Zayn his way, pressing his mouth on Zayn's, holding his neck with his hot fingers pressing on his nape. Zayn welcomes his fervent tongue as he holds his waist and hip close to him, memorizing the rhythm and tempo of the music. 

The kiss gets messy and Zayn could feel his tongue licking under his bottom lip as he knocks their mouths back after separating. His cheeks are growing hotter the longer Harry messes through his hair, bites his lips and licks his teeth. Finally, with his forehead pressed into Harry's hair, breath warming Harry's face even hotter, they start to move. Slowly, with their hips trying to sync in subtle grinding, holding Harry's face close as Harry looks down between them, looking to find a chance to control. 

It doesn't take them three songs long to build their adrenaline up together. The kissing already helped; so did Harry when he pulled Zayn to close the space in between them and sway slowly and smooth, not rushing like a bunch of hormones raging all at once. 

They've taken steps going left and right together, let their fingers lace together when Harry kissed Zayn and held his face. Now Zayn's back is pressing against Harry's, waist held by Zayn's stern hands caressing him. It was comforting and safe, despite the very sexual music playing by _The Weeknd_. It was like an ultimate excuse for them to show off and grind with each other.

“Think we blew everyone’s mind." Harry's laughs into his ear as he holds Zayn's nape. It'd be very sweet of them to look at everyone stealing looks if Harry wasn't raising his voice because of the music powering over his voice.

“I hope so." He chuckles quietly, then rests his head back on Harry's shoulders. “Tired of the encouragements to get laid."

“Because we all know you don’t get some at all." He leans his head against Zayn's. They're barely moving; just taking steps side to side since they've both quit grinding on each other. 

“Oh that’s rich of you, Harry!” Zayn’s suddenly shaken by a person patting and shaking Harry. The two turn around to meet Kappa's house mate, Adam. “Banging Zayn since I heard and seen how much of a good boy he is. I'd take advantage too."

"I will fuck you up." Harry laughs coldly. "I don't think you know what you're doing."

Narrowing his eyes, Zayn outlines Adam’s torso and he decides he can’t really fight someone who’s got an extra 70 pounds on him—those pounds being muscles which there’s a lacking of from Zayn. Sure, Zayn doesn’t feel any more remorse towards the video of his first time with Alex when it happened 2 years ago. It’s dormant until someone decides to pick it like it’s a play thing of his.

"Ah, yes I do." Adam coos. "At least share him around. That's what he's good for. I don't think he really does anything as V.P, now does he? You just got him to be your personal slave."

“I don’t think you should be talking right now.” Zayn impedes their conversation; Harry quick to hold Zayn back. He could hear him telling him to stop.

“I can’t believe you didn’t notice his webcam filming you.” Adam continues. “Pretty good bottom.”

“I was being fucked out of my mind, what do you want me to do? Jump off and check my emails?” Zayn scoffs, trying to push Harry's strength. Zayn wished this was going unnoticed; Liam and Eggsy were the two closest to them. They joined in, pushing Zayn farther away from Adam and out of the crowd. Niall’s left in the middle, his arms drop like they're weights on his side, shaking his head and saying something Zayn can't hear.

“Maybe you should’ve known not to fuck with a fourth year in your first.” Adam continues to push even more.

Harry went straight for Adam, tackled him down until the whole dance floor was opened to them to fight it all out. People were yelling, some others were chanting. And Zayn just stood there; half his body just wanted to let Adam take Harry's punches. The other half wanted to pull Harry away, hold his hands because they probably hurt like shit against Adam's face. Rho swarmed in, pulled Harry off and that's when Zayn snapped back into reality. Kappa came in, started pulling Adam back on his feet. 

"Better next time you shut that big fucking mouth of yours." Harry wipes his lips. Even Adam got some hard punches too. 

Rho sat him back down to their table. Zayn went to the washroom for a wet cloth. Halls like these who charge $900 a night would have towels to dry hands with. 

He hears the door open, and he really was hoping it was Ant.

"Zayn, I'm sorry." Niall's probably sent to say it on behalf of Kappa. The one he's supposed to be apologizing to is Harry.

"Fuck off." Zayn mutters over the running water of the sink. He twists the towel, letting the excess water drip. "You aren't different from the rest of Kappa, so I don't know why I would forgive you."

"Things were said tonight that weren't right, I know." Niall wipes his forehead. "And there were things said another night that I've been regretting."

"No, you haven't." Zayn sneers at Niall. "You don't give a fuck about anything."

"I do care! What, I'm not supposed to because I'm in _Kappa_?" Niall retaliates. "I'm not supposed to be smart, I'm not supposed to care? You know I'm not like that.

"I don't know you at all. And I don't care if you're sorry." 

"Why are you so mad at me?" 

"Because you turned against me." Zayn realizes he's been wetting the towel since he came in—repeatedly soaking it and writhing it of excess water. "I told you lots of things I didn't tell anybody and then you dropped me. Good idea though, I'm getting lots of things done."

"And then you dropped me for Harry. The one person you told me about that didn't appreciate you as his V.P." Niall shakes his head. "Remember when we were at Heis? I said take what you can get. It just ended up something like, let it just be me. Let it be me, Zayn." 

Niall had gotten so close. Zayn turned his body towards him, and he didn't move away. He stopped wetting his towel and he watches Niall's hand fidgeting between their bodies. He didn't think something like this would happen, and smiling is all he wants to do but he won't.

Niall's hand weakly hits his other hand on top when he begins to confess, "I-I like you a lot. And it's been screwing with my mind that we got this far and we're not even going to go for the jump the both of us want to take." Niall starts to stammer. "I am gonna go all out here and tell you I think about you for many hours of the day. You scare me a lot, to be honest, especially knowing you use the guilt that you have to get anybody you want in bed and it actually works. You have lots of things up your sleeve and it's actually pretty mischievous and manipulative, but I think it's cool." 

It was him, for an entire two months and it fell apart when he made sure Zayn didn't exist up until the end of the month. Now he's here—alive and good for his well-being. He had a chance for Niall to be just the only one he'll sleep with. And it wasn't just sex Niall could have. They could have had secrets, dates, and inside jokes that would have had made them tear up. He wanted that before he was pushed off to be some sort of last resort.

He's not sure what to do. Is this all even worth it? They have an endless unresolved problem between their houses which just adds fuel to the fire.

Zayn wipes his lip while he shakes his head. "It isn't fair that you come around to tell me that any of this isn't right, then try to make up for a few weeks of silent treatment. For fuck sakes, you wanted that, and I was perfectly flexible and fine to play along the cold shoulders you gave me. I didn't exist to you, and you went about it effortlessly. So no, I'm not going to suddenly forget how easy it was for you to pretend it never happened. Thanks for telling me the extra stuff. Glad to know that that's what makes me interesting."

Niall's face is beat red, and there's a slight chance Zayn regrets his words knowing it must've taken a whole lot for Niall to tell him how he felt. Yet, it's like Zayn didn't spend weeks hurt. It was enough that all he could think was Harry is his solution. For almost two fucking years, all he's ever thought for answers and solutions was sex, knowing that's all he could really do. That's what he's known for anyway—Adam proved that tonight.

Niall starts to laugh quietly, faltering between the shut seams of his lips. "I must be really stupid to have wasted three years on someone who won't even give me the time of day. Even when I meant every word of my feelings and apology, I'm gonna get the cold shoulder. _Ironic_. Maybe pretty fucking much something I deserve."

"What are you talking about?" Zayn grimaces at him. "Three years?" It's not like orientation was the official time they declared they were friends. They aren't even in the same program , so how could have anything happened? Nothing should've happened in the first place. Nothing was ever going to permit this from going any farther than it has to.

Niall shook his head in pain, like he was choking something down with the biggest pang throbbing in his mind. "Forget it. You're able to after you sleep with Harry, so."

That wasn't fair. 

Letting him walk out was easier than having to apologize to that. Zayn wouldn't know these things—and of course, he'd figure it all out at a time like this. He walked out with the towel in his hand, arrived at the table where they all asked him where he's been. He doesn't have to lie—he really was in the washroom. And now, all he wanted to do is drink so he doesn't have to remember anything that happened in the washroom. 

But then again, he allowed himself to smile. Since orientation? Really? Even when he had his baby fat still on his face that made him look unbelievably naïve, that made him likeable for three years? Niall was definitely right about everything—Zayn didn't deserve him. Hell, none of them deserve each other. Above all, Zayn actually doesn't deserve anyone to begin with but Niall came around. Always the first to apologize, always the first to say something—that was never going to be Zayn. And now it's all going to be 'forgotten'.

When the video leaked out, Zayn didn't know what to say—it was only a ten minute video of what was really forty five minutes of Zayn losing his virginity. The disappointing part was the video released was at the moment he was learning how to blow a dick off. So a part of that ten minutes, he was on his knees, sucking Alex off like the _'good boy'_ he is. The other cut didn't show their faces as the webcam never followed them. It just showed Zayn's legs pressed against Alex's sides, being pounded in at the last minute before Zayn moaned out. And everyone thought that was it—Zayn came only that one time. It wasn't forty five minutes of nothing. He came twice.

He nearly put his first black eye on Alex if he didn't get the explanation first. He didn't deny not doing the webcam video, but it was never meant to be shown and shared around, that his friends must have seen it themselves. The leak happened 3 months after going so hard for 4 month streak, and it was supposed to be some kind of future gift for their one year anniversary. Zayn didn't think it would last that long, how did Alex? Now that he's thinking about, Alex is just a manipulative piece of shit, and he believed in every word. And he's always going to remember the time he lost his virginity and nearly 100,000 people watched it.

Everyone thought Alex was horrible, some thought he was cool for doing something like that. And in between, Zayn still loved him, even if the majority of the campus hated him for taking a video in the first place. They all thought Zayn was some kind of victim, and he never really thought that he was. No one really actually told him the right side to all of this. He was going in and out blind and naïve.

They never did reach a year—though it did feel like it because he was there for his graduation, and he was there for him when he was moving back to Miami. Alex couldn't deal with the consistent blaming, so he broke it off two months after the video leaked. And then everyone thought Zayn saw the light to call it over when he never really wanted it to end in the first place.

So by the end of his first year, his life was falling apart, and he didn't do anything about the one that left him.

Instead of wasting all the wine and champagne on himself, he's been sobering himself up for half an hour with water and coke, and he realized that every one from Rho was around the table—whoever's table it really is because it wasn't there's—chilling with Zayn even when he was out of his mind the whole time. For once, it's like he's a part of Rho again.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Harry asks. "'Cause we can kick their asses if you want."

"You already did." Also, the Christmas Banquet can't end where Rho and Kappa are throwing each other around to _All I Want For Christmas Is You._

"You're right." Harry nods, then he glares at Jordan. "At least you listen."

"What the fuck did I do?" Jordan asks with his hand out, mouth stuffed with tempura shrimp.

"You've been losing points." Zayn laughs—he's the one who does all the paperwork, not the docking of points. That's all Harry. "You tell me."

"It's because I beat you in scrabble. And you get mad." Jordan scoffs, and he sits back down in his seat.

"Minus one for initiating conflict against the president." Harry taps it into his phone before he can forget.

"Are you kidding me?" He sighs. If Zayn can remember, he's down to 3 points this week. If he has the lowest number of points by the end of the week, he's doing the chores and errands. It'll reset on Monday, and he'll hope for the next time not to lose points. Anyone can choose to help him, although there's rarely anyone will sacrifice their time and life to do so.

It's until the last second Zayn notices Rho looking behind Zayn, and he turns around to Adam. Again.

"On behalf of myself and Kappa, I apologize for what was said earlier about Zayn. I hope you can understand my ignorance, and accept my apology." He sounds like a robot. They must have gotten him to say that. He doesn't look impressed at all.

"Apology accepted." Zayn grins tightly before they all turned back and continued their conversations. He accidentally rolls his eyes.

Zayn turned back towards the table, everyone was looking at him instead. Nothing better to make him feel awkward than 18 pairs of eyes staring at him.

Harry, Ben, and Ant leave the table, probably to convince their dates to leave so they could have a quick one at the house before all their other brothers come back home. It's really bad when a girl is over and the boys are making moaning sounds outside the door. No one finishes really happy at that point.

Zayn stays at the table the whole time, talking with pledges that seem to not want to be on the floor. There are pledges from the sororities too; at least they have the nerve to get on their feet and not think about what anyone has to say about them. For half an hour at least, Zayn's been trying to convince them to dance to at least one song. He's given up on that.

There's a leeway when his leg buzzes. It was his cue to leave. It really wasn't but Zayn just couldn't take everyone being so boring. 

He pulls out his phone, reminding him about a Rho assignment and that his phone needs to be plugged in. That's cool. 6% and it still has enough to remind him. It should remind him to take a smoke break. He's been inside all night and after that whole fight, he really needed two.

Zayn never knew there was a golf course here in the first place. It took him about ten minutes to figure out how to leave the hall, and he finds himself in the middle of a playing area with a bed of snow crunching under his foot.

"Can you _move_." Niall hisses. Of course he'd be playing at night—as if he can see where the ball is rolling or bouncing to. As a matter of fact, when it hits the little flag pole above the hole and rolls right in, Niall cheers quietly.

Zayn's never been much of a golf player. His family owns a country club but he's there for the roofed patio with cushioned chairs and glass tables. He's even there for the pool, but not the tennis court. Beverly hills is truly a blessing sometimes. It'll be a real difference coming back to L.A. There isn't any snow there.

There isn't much light but Zayn could perfectly see around him with alcohol influencing the way he's seeing things. Somewhat blurry, he still notices the soaked spot on Niall's lap.

"You piss yourself or what?" Zayn asks.

"Hm... Drink got spilled on." Niall sighs, rotating the golf club around like a wooden stick.

"Are you bleeding?" Zayn stares at his lip. There's an awful bruise there too. Like a mother bear, Zayn goes right to Niall—pinpoints his cracked lip. It's freshly bleeding and Niall won't look at him. 

Niall flinches when Zayn's hand reaches for his face. It's an unsettling moment when Niall's either too scared or pissed at him to let him touch him. Zayn tries again, slowly letting his hand approach his chin to look at the open bleeding lip. 

"Y'could kiss me y'know. You don't have to stare and ask or anythin'." Niall lets his bottom lip curve in as he laughs, but his face goes deadpan.

"Seriously, what happened?" Zayn examines the bruise; moving his chin left for a better view and thumbing his lip to see if it's deep. Then there's blood on his thumb—a whole wet smudge of it.

"What're you doing, Zayn?" Niall twisting his head left and right, pulling his chin back. He starts to walk away, picking his suit jacket up from the ground. Why would he do such a thing? It's freezing outside. "I already humiliated myself trying to apologize twice. Also, you've somehow left the image of you and Harry making out on the floor in my head. Disgusting."

"You did, in a way." Zayn takes a few steps closer to get to Niall. "But I think it's my turn."

"That's new. You never do anything that isn't for yourself." Niall scoffs. He puts his arms through his jacket, rolling his eyes when Zayn shrugs. "Not to mention, you rejected and slammed my apparently hypocritical apology down and then somehow, you're here to _apologize_ about it?"

Yeah. That's about it. This isn't really going to be easy like before. Not with this chilling cold bite. Biting his lip down when he can, he unclenches his teeth from his bottom lip. There's this goddamn wind that's making his eyes narrow and hair a mess. "You were the first person I've really liked since Alex."

"It didn't feel like it. I mean it did but then you said it wasn't." Niall's eyebrows quirk before he starts to turn the golf club like a baton. "Especially tonight. Did you enjoy yourself? 'Cause I think you were! You always like the attention, think you're so low key. You hurt people as well, Zayn."

"I know!" Zayn shouts loud enough to startle Niall to completely turn away. "I was really angry at you. I said things I didn't mean because I knew they were things nobody ever wants to hear." Let alone expect it. "And you were right about Harry—that last part that you said about me. I—I _don't_ do it out of spite. I-I don't know anything else than to sleep with someone because there's a sad chance somewhere that I'm hopeful about where all my problems would go away, right then and there."

Niall turns back, nodding and sighing. That must mean he understood that part without having anything else to say because he doesn't have any words to ease it all. He's still mad, annoyance in his expression. "And what don't you mean exactly?"

"You know what I mean."

Niall starts to laugh, and it's colder than this weather to numb against his skin. "I'm stupid, so I don't."

"You're not stupid. You're the smartest bitch I've ever met. You don't even have to pretend." Zayn shakes his head. No, he doesn't. Unlike everyone else, he doesn't have to lie. Even when he has to, it's for his own well-being. Not something for selfish purposes like when Zayn lies to himself about not caring that a D-class sex tape leaked across campus. That if he pretended he actually cared, this was going to get him brownie points for sex, and it did. Sometimes he cared, sometimes he didn't. Nobody ever spoke to him about the problem. It was really a defected painkiller.

"I am not a bitch." Niall huffs. He starts to walk pass Zayn. "You're not even close to ending this match."

Before he could leave, Zayn holds him back by his wrist. "I like you. A lot too. If that wasn't obvious. And if you had said for me to stop sleeping with Harry, I'd do it in a heartbeat." Zayn's mind is spraying like a machine gun. He would stop while he's ahead, but it's better if they get things right, not wait a moment longer. "I would date the shit out of you, but I probably won't because we both have responsibilities to uphold and I'd probably be put on academic probation. That's if, you _still_ like me, after all the awful things that I've said and done. I think about you as well. It's sort of choking my chances of being exceptionally happy if I'm not talking to you. 

Zayn takes a deep breath before he can start again. "I _can't_ like anybody else. I've known Harry for so long and I can't like him the way that I like you. I don't wanna sound like a douchebag but I've come across a lot of people and they never meant anything. But you—we sort of hated each other for so long, and you tolerated my shit to the point I'm standing here, enjoying the fact that you hated me but liked me deep down. Because there's actually something you _genuinely_ like about me even when I'm not an easy person to like."

"Of course." Niall starts to laugh as he hides his mouth his hand. "You were arrogant half the time for no reason and very stubborn. You're a jerk when you're with Rho, but alone you're not so bad. Learn that the hard way." Niall starts to hum, a look of doubt on his face. "Well, _actually_ —you're not bad alone because I've gotten you to like me. Not to mention you're not even bad with Rho anymore because you _actually_ like me."

"No." Zayn shakes his head, scowling. "I got _you_ to like _me_."

"Zayn, stop lying." Niall kisses his teeth in irritation. "You liked me because of my charming ways of making you think I'm some sort of hoe when that's actually you, and you fell for my smart, athletic, and ambitious side that you thought you were." He laughs. Zayn tries not to join because if he does, he might accidentally let Niall win. 

"Speaking of which, this is actually the first thing in my mind after you stopped talking, but _academic_ _probation_?" Is that really what he just heard? Wow, he shouldn't have poured his out like that for Niall to filter it down to this one point.

"I have an awful GPA at this moment." Besides his midterm report that Niall helped him with—Zayn's really doing awful in his Literature class. He's really close to landing that probation if he doesn't show any improvements for exams soon.

"You _idiot_." Niall huffs with so much disgust.

"I've been busy with a lot of the pledges." Zayn shrugs, breathing in and out into his numbing hand. "You could tutor me if you want." 

"Do I really want to spend my evenings tutoring you?"

It won't be anywhere near their house so the two of them are safe from fraternity harassment. And it wouldn't be a very rigid study time at the library with Zayn's terrible attention span. He'll probably crack every ten minutes or so for a drink, drink it for ten minutes and buy a new one again.

The cool thing is Niall's considering it. He could see how tense he is just thinking about it. Niall will probably end up hating him more than ever. Or so at least that's what he thought, and is now thinking how he misses their hugs. Niall dropped the golf club which he seemed to have picked up from the floor of the snow. He presses right into Zayn for a hug because he's the left nut that thought it wasn't cold enough to bring his jacket out with him.

Accepted with open arms, he embraces Niall tight as he can—likes that Niall's face is in his neck.  Zayn smiles. "You smell like cinnamon."

"I'm obviously Bubbles from Powerpuff Girls. Like, sugar and spice, and everything nice." Niall slaps his chest. His arms are pressed against both their chests, and he can't do anything about Zayn squeezing him. Oh, he's so goddamn warm.

"Yeah, you forgot the other ingredient." Zayn starts to rub Niall's entire back down from getting too cold.

"Forgot what it is." Niall tells him without a sense of care in the world. His arms slip around from the space between their chest to Zayn's back. "Not important."

Zayn looks off to the side. "Yes it is." 

"No." Niall replies.

"Yes..." That's what made them Powerpuff Girls anyway. Not the sugar and spice—those were to make the girls. And without CHEMICAL X ingredient, they wouldn't be alive.

"No Zayn." Niall tries to sing it.

"Yes Niall." Zayn mocks him.

"Goddamn," Niall scoffs when he pulls away from Zayn. They're still close enough to hug again. "You're actually _so_ annoying. I thought _I_ was annoying. And I thought _Harry_ was annoying. I even thought _Rho_ was too."

"Honestly," Zayn laughs under his breath. "Shut up." Despite annoyances, Zayn holds Niall's cheek while his other hand grips his shoulder, pulling him in for his tongue and lips to break between his lips.

He shuts up long enough to catch the tongue licking between his lips and let it continue. Even through the cold air of winter, Niall's squeezing his arms around Zayn's back, his fingers tracing down his bones and the long dip of his spine, letting their lips part even wider as seconds pass, and Zayn's busy letting his tongue trace every detail of his Niall's lips and mouth. 

Zayn kisses soft and gentle at first. With the air catching up to him, his jaw clenches tight between their lips pressing in between one another. Sometimes, Niall will just shove his lips hard over Zayn's top lip, keep it there for four seconds just to brace himself from the cold. 

Zayn wants to bear through it and give himself a minute more to enjoy this moment. Sure, they kissed before but Zayn has something to look forward to. He can do this tomorrow, the next day, and the next, and he won't get sick of it. He's gonna become addicted, and the lips he's kissing will ruin his mind. That's all he's going to ever think about. Not taking this inside is already one of the first signs of addiction. They're just so sweet and wet, small but firm that he has to keep going and get what he needs for tonight. 

He starts to smile and tilt his head to the side more, nearing his face until their noses are awkwardly pressing, and their foreheads are touching. Maybe Niall knows what's up when grabs Zayn's face, kissing and sucking his lips endlessly.

Now he wasn't mad at anyone anymore, except at Niall—standing out in the cold like it's nothing. At least there's a jacket amongst them. He's content. And he was even in a very good mood after that night. Though it was all very much true that Niall's causing a distraction. 

He sat through their weekend meeting with his head up in the clouds. He was aware the meeting was about them choosing a little brother from the pool of pledges. He already had a good bond with Liam and he figured they've already established that Zayn's going to be Liam's big brother while the rest of them went ahead choosing potential pledges. And Harry went on for another few minutes and that's when Zayn completely ascended up above the clouds.

"Zayn!" Harry slams the gavel down. Zayn startles in his seat and the senior and junior members are staring at him, like they're waiting.

"Oh—uh," Zayn looks through his agenda. Thank god it was just the weekly report and updates. "Rho continues to impress the dean and the national associations with its impressive hours spent in philanthropy. And next week, we'll be adding more hours as we are serving hot meals at the local shelter. Don't forget to get your presents for the secret santa with Theta. You should have it before the next Sunday as we're having our monthly mixer. Other than that, our next major event is the charity ball with the different program representatives and clubs."

"And don't take as long as Zayn did to tell your little brothers about this month." Harry scoffs. Zayn glares up at him, exhaling quietly. "It's your responsibility to keep your little brothers on track. It's a test for you both, and if one of you fails, we all fail. Is that clear?"

It has been clear from the beginning—Rho's been failing from the start with Harry's lead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> side note: i wrote this before jennifer lawrence pulled those ugly stunts with the phone that made me hate her even more and mockingjay was the movie out at the time i was writing this (considering it's november in this part lol)


	5. surprise party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> zayn leans his head back, staring up at the lights. "why don't you just tell your mates you're studying?"
> 
> "because they'll convince me not to go, and i'll find myself drunk." niall tilts his head until it leans against his shoulder. "better i lie, keep it a secret of mine, and stay sober."
> 
> "our secret." zayn muses, shutting his eyes with content. he'd like to think of this as a dangerous secret love affair. but at most, this is really just to avoid the scrutiny of their houses. "secrets."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> damn ven, back at it agaaaaaain wit the updates! 
> 
> i edited this right after 4 so i wont slack off. ill do the same for the next one. not a lot of people are reading this as far as im aware, but if u r... thanks for keeping up :D means a lot!
> 
> also, chapter titles r song names. check them out. might already know some of them lol
> 
> sorry for any typos and mistakes! i really hate leaving them in

As much as Zayn wants the trouble between him and Harry to be over—it's not.

He figured out how Niall got the bleeding lip three days later. They elbowed him on his lip. He has a healing lip that shouldn't be healing in the first place. Liam figured it was them when the trio Harry, Ant, and Ben left their table because the whole night, everyone else but those three and Zayn stayed at the table.

He knew this was going to happen. Zayn formulated a schedule on how to go around about his time with Niall and the household. The stress behind making a schedule is the whole thing itself. If Niall wasn't holding a position within Kappa, the lads would welcome him with open arms because Rho was just hell of a fucking supportive family when it came to certain things. Then the line drops where they let their loyalty to Rho show by letting Kappa drown their minds away from the fact Zayn's not screwing around any more—that he has actually found someone that likes him. And who knows that around here besides Harry who's looking for ways to kill him without being caught?

Other than that, there's nothing more he hates than studying at the library with Niall where he's forced to actually read shit called Beowulf. Niall can study properly—he's got the mind for that. It explains his very high GPA he's able to keep up while balancing his VP position in Kappa.

 And studying is all what they really do. As much as Niall likes making out, he's pretty rigid about it. The people in the library could talk about them, and nobody's sure what either of their fraternities would say or do. Even with them sitting together at a table grants them enough staring and confusion from people. Zayn tries not to show that he knows, but he would shift a lot in his seat—lose focus because none of this is fair. They fucking look like business partners talking about balances and mergers with the way things are. 

 "Zayn, I'm trying to help you." Zayn could hear Niall's stress laughing. He digs his pen on his temple. "Now, how is Beowulf structured?"

 Zayn shrugs, shoulders dropping like they're tied with weights. "He's really built. Probably rugged as hell."

 "Come on." Niall groans for a solid three seconds, convincing Zayn he was ready to bawl his eyes due to stress. "I wanna get out of here as well."

 "I'm trying, Niall." Zayn wipes his face. He's half asleep at this point of studying. And starving. "It is structured as an epic. And an epic is a very long narrative poem recounting heroic deeds." Zayn huffs. "It relates to what Beowulf fights and fights for. His actions reflect his society."

 Niall hums, expressing his taut smile. "We'll expand on that. How about the symbolisms?"

 "Well, Beowulf symbolizes the duality in every person, they could be both good and evil." Zayn sighs. "And, Grendel symbolizes sin and evil. He's also a descendant of Cain. It's significant because it symbolizes Godlessness and disobedience. Grendel's mother and the dragon symbolizes Beowulf's desire for glory and honour, and that's really all that I have."

 Zayn smiles at the end; all fake and forced just so that Niall knows how he's really feeling at this point. All he gets is a glare before Niall turns away and looks through Zayn's notebook of literature notes which all look like poo. 

Zayn leans his head back, staring up at the lights. "Why don't you just tell your mates you're studying?"

"Because they'll convince me not to go, and I'll find myself drunk." Niall tilts his head until it leans against his shoulder. "Better I lie, keep it a secret of mine, and stay sober."

"Our secret." Zayn muses, shutting his eyes with content. He'd like to think of this as a dangerous secret love affair. But at most, this is really just to avoid the scrutiny of their houses. "Secrets."

Niall starts to laugh. "Yeah."

Out of nowhere, he feels Niall's touch on his face, that pulls him from leaning his head back, and he's looking at the pretty pair of blue eyes staring back at him.

Maybe this isn't one they should keep tucked away. It won't make anybody happy, but he's not entirely happy himself. It's been a proper set of days they haven't spent time together. Niall sitting at a table at O'Den's doesn't count. Especially when Zayn is focused on waiting tables and getting the bills than they are showing each other pictures of puppies and cats. Studying doesn't count when Niall's very deep into it. And it doesn't count as a study date they keeping telling themselves without anybody kissing anyone.

Rho won't be too happy. At least he'll be. It's a tender press between his lips that makes him part for more. It didn't feel so short at all; it was within eight seconds, and it made it so much longer with the burns from the eyes that gazed them down through the copy of Beowulf Zayn holds up in front of their faces.

After studying, Niall says he rewards himself with beer and pool. So that's what they do at Heis—take a pool table to themselves and hold bottomless glasses of beer, making exceptions for tequila which they shared about two shots together.

It somehow led to Zayn playing his own game while Niall tried to collect himself. He watched Zayn play from their pub-style table with the rims of their empty glasses of beers touching. And if Niall wasn't drunk, he would still feel pity him. Zayn's pool skills were terrible. He didn't even have a ball fall in the pocket when he broke the formation.

"Let me help you." Niall laughs, putting his pint down and starts to walk over to him.

Zayn can definitely make a shot in—if he's really trying. If he's not trying, then it sucks when everybody else isn't either and they're making pockets left and right. He should really start to suck at everything and have Niall help him out if he's really eager to always do so. Even if it is just to cop up a feel.

Pressed beside him, leaning down with him, Niall whispers. "Just relax, and take your time." And he stands back up, still pressed against him. Cautious, he sneaks his thumb over the sliver of his exposed skin. He pushes the edge of his shirt up more until his whole hand is holding his exposed hip.

"Are you satisfied with that?" There is a hand caressing and massaging him on his hip and he's supposed to focus on hitting the white ball? Definitely not any easier.

"Let's make a bet." Niall proposes with a mischievous wince in his eye, his gaze focused right on the cue. 

"What kind?" Zayn concentrated on his aim at the yellow striped ball. He hit a loud clack and he watched the yellow ball roll to the corner. No pockets. Poor helping hand of Niall's.

"We'll make it simple." Niall puts on a smirk for Zayn. "If I win, you kiss me right here, right now. Even with all these people."

That's very simple indeed. "And if I win?" 

"I'll start tipping you at O'Den's." Niall starts to nod, as if Zayn won't believe it. It's very hard to believe him. Niall's given him a lot to do and not once has he actually tipped Zayn. 

"Okay," Zayn laughs, setting the play up. "Now I'm really determined to win." 

Niall picks up at stick by the rack. "And I'll even give you a handicap. How many do you think you need?" He chalks the tip of his stick.

"Two balls." Zayn grins as he walks over to the end of the table.

Niall looked at him for a mere second before he shook his head to himself. Zayn proceeded to break. Take your time and relax, Niall told him. He focused on his aim, tried to really picture what he wants in the pockets before striking ball.

He set it free, watched it roll towards the formation, listened to the loud clack that broke them all apart and watched Niall's face go deadpan. Zayn grinned at the three pockets he's made, both stripes.

"You schemer." Niall huffs. 

So Zayn didn't suck that much. Let's just say he loses when he wants to, and wins when he needs to.

Zayn chuckles. "I have a very good teacher." A nice one who still has the handicap on. He drops two more balls in the pocket, and focuses dead set on his new target ball.

"Don't you play that on me." Niall laughs in misery.

The game doesn't last all that long. Not when Zayn is making all the pockets he intends to have while Niall's solids are still all on the table. It's not like Zayn's winning much; it all depends how much Niall tips him anyway. For all he cares, he'll tip him a quarter and say that's his contribution. What a definite asshole. 

With Zayn's last ball as the eight, he's got a dead shot right into the corner pocket. All the more reason to rub it in Niall's face that's he's definitely the real winner. Except, Zayn's hand must've slipped for him not to land it in at all, and land the white ball in another hole instead.

Niall looked around, thinking if this is all really true. His reality hit when Zayn slipped himself between the table and Niall, kisses him deep like he's been wanting to since they left the library. He's got his arms around his neck, kissing him slowly and tenderly, hoping he can taste every bit of everything they had tonight off his tongue.

"Still wanna play?" Zayn laughs quietly. 

"Yeah." Niall exhales, fingers tracing down his shoulder blades and back. "Handicap for your two balls at your place." 

—

"Are you _fucking_ kidding me!" 

A few incoherent grumbles and shifting in bed, Zayn asks the question again—in Harry's voice. That's how he heard it the first time, and all he's doing is repeating it to himself.

Wait. "What?" Zayn blinks his eyes open. There's Ant, Ben, Jordan, Harry—Eggsy to who gives Zayn a punch on his shoulder as his good morning. In an impulse, he looks beside him—it's just Harry, no Niall. In a very positive way and not in a very absurd and rude one, he's glad he's left him way early in the morning.

"So—you and Niall? Come on Zayn, you can do better." Ben winces. What's with all the sudden burst of questions at 10 in the morning of a Saturday.

"I've met Niall. He's not too bad." Jordan shrugs with a grin. Of course he's not too bad. Niall's a good liar. "Lucas talks a lot about him. Says he's funny and stuff."

And everyone looks at Zayn to reassure that statement. 

"Most of the time."

"You fuck yet?" Ant asks abruptly.

"Ant!" Harry cuts in.

"Excuse me? How vulgar?" Zayn grimaces. Though Zayn shouldn't be talking. Maybe they heard him last night. In that case, he really shouldn't say anything until that's confirmed.

"Good, because you shouldn't. Niall's just friendly, if you get what I mean." Ant adds in.

Then a whole conversation about Niall erupts and he finds himself sitting up amidst it all. Ant's talking about how ill-minded he is. With Eggsy, he's talking about how arrogant he is as if Zayn doesn't know that. Harry's talking everything about him, truly hates Niall's guts and soul. Zayn can't help but agree, but stupid? Sure, he jokes around from time to time. He never takes anything seriously. It doesn't make him any stupider than the next guy like him.

"He's cool." Zayn joins the conversation, and everyone looks at him like he's lost his mind. A Kappa? Cool? "We're just friends."

"I don't know, mate." Eggsy starts to chuckle. "Heard you were doing quite a bit of studying."

"Yeah, Beowulf." The real questions weren't about symbolism or themes—it was why did anyone spend their whole entire life writing poetry about this? 

"That's not what we're here for!" Harry interrupts and slaps his hand Zayn's pillow. He was the only one on his bed other than Zayn. "We're here because we cannot believe you betrayed us. Can't believe Kappa just happened to be your choice of the pick to date."

"I didn't betray you!" Zayn scoffs.

"Give Zayn some credit. It's been 3 years since our brother here has had any love." Jordan messes his hair. "Could've made a better choice though."

"I said we're friends, guys." Zayn grumbles. They didn't even give him time to really wake up so he's wiping his eyes from the crust of his tears. He also has a headache—practically his whole entire fault for thinking tequila was his best friend.

If they knew he was lying, why did they continue to press on?

"Must be life-long friends to have been touching each other up all night at Heisman." Eggsy punches him a few times again. 

Zayn's eyes were barely opening. "He was drunk." He says with his lips barely moving. Well, they both were.

"So when you started making out—was that your best friend secret handshake?" Give it to Ant to actually find things out first for Kappa. Well, the man does work at Heis so all the more reason to have seen them first. What a scout.

"I don't even remember what happened last night." Zayn peeks through the slit of his eyes. He does very much. The two-ball handicap Niall gave him, the beers he chugged after he made one in the pocket—a shot of tequila if it's more than one but that was only after the break which usually someone gets. It really was a horrible game set up at first. They were partly out of it by two beers and a shot in.

"Not even this hickey, huh?" 

"Mhm," Zayn will still stick to his story even when Ant is their alibi. "Where?"

"On your neck!" Harry slaps the back of his neck. "That Kappa of yours getting you dumber or what?"

Zayn hand falls down to his lap, fingers pressing on his inner thigh. "Well, I was given a hickey on my thigh once but do what you will." Once, meaning last night.

"That you remember." Harry accuses with a smug smile. It falls short when he remembers he's pissed.

Funny, it wasn't even Harry that gave him that blooming bruise. It disappeared before Harry could figure out he'd been sleeping with somebody else. Harry had been really the only cheering up everyone knew about. Not the mother with kids, not the drunken nights he had at the bar that ended early so he could be in bed by the time every one in the house wakes up. Harry only thinks it was him because he can't even count the amount of times they've been fucking around for a year and a half now.

Eventually, they all left. Harry left first in spite and everyone else just followed. The only one who stayed was Eggsy, and they spent the first two minutes having a staring contest in silence until Eggsy hit him with, "so, Niall?"

He grins. "Yeah."

"Is he really what everyone says he is?" That's for the sake of protecting Zayn. Eggsy wouldn't have asked—or Zayn's lying to himself and Eggsy's really is curious just like everybody else.

"He's the opposite, actually." Zayn breaks into a smile. "When he needs to be."

"I don't think that's really possible. I mean, Harry thinks that. Probably."

"I wouldn't jump into this if I didn't know what I was doing." 

"No, I understand. I just want to look out for you." Eggsy shrugs. "I'll be on my way. There's breakfast today and it'll run out eventually."

"I know." Zayn laughs. "Thanks."

He's left in his own peace to dwell in. It only lasts a couple of minutes and it seems like no one wants to let him have this Saturday. But the vibrations from his phone isn't all that terrible to encounter half an hour past ten when he sees who it is and he picks up, and misses out on the breakfast.

—

"Zayn, do you mind supervising the pledges clean the yard properly?" Harry asks, landing a hand on his shoulder. It's been a while they've had a real conversation. From time to time, it's strictly business and fraternity affairs. It's almost like they've forgotten they're best friends. Seeing Harry looking very tense with a favour to ask, he won't count this as a conversation at all.

Wait. Clean the yard? He knew the pledges were doing something—just never thought the something he's taking part in as well would be this. "I thought we agreed we weren't going to have them do such a task." Zayn raises his brow questioningly.

"They're pledges, Zayn. Just like you and me before, we had to prove how much we wanted to be here." Harry's voice is stern, as if he doesn't take back to that meeting in the beginning of the year about bossing them around.

"We said we were going to change things around here, stop the whole hazing." Zayn stands up with his schedule attached to a clipboard. 

"We won't discuss this any further." Harry walks off from his room.

Zayn follows his orders, grabs a couple of lined paper to attach to his clipboard. Outside his window, there are at least 7 pledges shovelling the snow, ridding the cars of snow and ice, cleaning just about everything for a party that's being launched for them. Supposedly, Zayn knows how it's going to end and it's with the pledges cleaning their own mess up too.

Zayn lunges forward when he's just about to trip over a chord leading to a vacuum inside their living room. There's the vacuum itself—standing tall beside their pledges Tyrese where he and Justin play Saints Row IV. He doesn't remember hearing the loud roar of a vacuum nor does he even see a difference in their house still.

"Hey, turn it off." Zayn taps his clipboard on Justin's arm. "Finish the task appointed to you."

"Two minutes, Zayn." He thumbs feverishly at the analog.

Zayn furrows his eyebrows. "Ty, pause the game."

"Seriously, two—"

"Yeah, then two more minutes, right?" Zayn scoffs. "Get off and do what needs to be finished."

They look at Zayn, annoyed at the tone behind his request. It's just Zayn can't believe Harry broke the whole promise to the house that they're not going to force pledges to clean messes up or do any hazing.

Zayn honestly means well. If he wasn't angered by the pledges cleaning the cars and shovelling snow that have been there for three weeks now—rained on relentlessly, snowed on even more, and everything else—Zayn wouldn't mind cleaning the living room and kitchen himself. Being appointed to watch the few selected pledges clean, count it as their contribution, it doesn't hit the guts as soft as he wants.

The other few pledges went to prepare for tonight. They took Ant's car to the market for some liquors and champagne and all the spirits quenchable for tonight. No kegs even if it supported dozens of attenders. Harry believe kegs to be cheap and ridiculous—not fit for Rho. Buying single bottles of liquor and whisky, three 30-pack Corona lime with another three 30-pack Smirnoffs, and a whole load of ice maybe costly for them but quality—that's what everyone goes there for. And the good music.

"Lads need any drinks or another hand?" Zayn walks down the steps, underestimating the wind smacking hard against his face and hair.

"Could go for some water. We've been here all day." Eugene—Zayn remembers his name. He's currently taking corporation law. Everyone knows corporations are a big bust—always fucking up big time with companies stealing from each other. Zayn knows he'll go far with it. Maybe it's his smile. He's got this smile not much people have. Really smooth like Nutella being spread on bread. Zayn would swoon if his mind isn't etched everywhere with Niall's smile.

"Take fifteen. I'll grab bottles." Zayn heads back in, trying to remember 7 bottles of water and a jacket.

With the loud vacuuming Tyrese and Justin were doing roughly improper, Zayn brought the 7 bottles but no jacket. Completely bare arms in a thin tee—he knows he'll be sick. 

If Harry got to know them better, he'd learn people have allergies during seasonal changes and the flu. Daniel has some severe sneezing and sniffing that Zayn is forced to have him work inside with Tyrese and Justin who couldn't be the worst company. It's not in his will to have Daniel not work—it's Harry's, and there was no choice but to have him give another task.

Zayn doesn't mind the pledge's company really; he's sure this year and the next with these guys would give them something to remember. It's not much he could say with this on-going dispute with Kappa. All he could hope is that it doesn't.

Kappa—he begins to think about Niall. Whipped he finds himself just wanting to walk a few doors down the street and ask him how his day is going, ignoring the future harassment from Kappa. Really, the only thing in his mind is to get through the clean-up and the reports so he could be free to spend his day. Not long until he can spend the rest of the day with him, and then leave again to come to this party.

"Do you mind me asking why you're out here?" Abel asks, another pledge.

"Evaluation." Zayn answers, oblivious to the answer itself. This wasn't his kind of evaluation to grade on. This is chores, not a test of determination and loyalty. "See if you're working and all."

"Oh." He nods lazily. Zayn can tell the word doesn't go well with what they're doing. Chores to evaluation—it doesn't work right even in his mind.

"It seems like you guys are doing well." Zayn gets up of the stairs all of them are sitting on. Looking around, their front is pretty impressive—never been cleaner than this in winter. "Just what do you guys have left to do?"

"Clean Harry's car."

Zayn focuses on the car, and not much can he say about it. Clean enough to his taste, he'll never understand the epitome of clean cars with Harry. All he wants is for pledges to stop working on chores  they aren't even in charge of, and see Niall. 

He can do both.

"I wonder what he— _ow!_ " Niall hums just before Zayn smack his hand away from the glove compartment, ignoring the loud snap of the handle. "Don't you want to know what's in there?" Niall gestures at the compartment again.

"Not quite. I don't care." Zayn leans against the door. "Could say it might be some receipts and tissues."

"Really Zayn. A peek won't hurt." Niall leans to his left, nudging Zayn on his arm.

He doesn't react when Niall finally opens the compartment, grabbing the few sheets and ignoring the condoms hidden right inside. Just like Zayn said, tissues and receipts—mostly for gas that his range rover burns quite easily. It's not in his best interest to care about those. He might for the next one when he pays for the gas he used up to get a car wash.

"Oh shit." Niall exhales, sharp that Zayn doesn't even have to see Niall's face to know he's reading something a person shouldn't find within a glove compartment. "Z-Zayn, look at this."

"What's this about?" Zayn groans, rubbing his eyes clear to a page full of transactions as he takes a turn into a car wash.

"Have you lads realized where your money is going?" Niall asks.

"Rho's account." Zayn mumbles, scanning the page down. He doesn't seem to even take in that they were making their way into the car wash.

He doesn't hear much from Ben who's their treasurer. That's not a beneficial idea because things like this wouldn't be happening. Rho has got a stable income coming in accordingly from various accounts with Zayn, Harry, and Ben with privileges to access the account. Everyone knows about it because people themselves are bringing in this income. Fraternity members pays at least $750 a month that the house uses for repairs and upgrades. New members pay $1,250, including pledges. To live in the house, it costs $3,500.When they do fundraisers, 10% only goes towards the fraternity while the rest goes to what they've worked for. 

When Zayn reads the transaction of last month, there's at least $6,000 coming from 15 different accounts into the account altogether. That's good between 15 people, especially Zayn when he works under commission. Meanwhile under the alias name "Ashton Martin", they've been extracting between $200-500 each month. Zayn wouldn't be worried if they weren't losing more money than they were paying for. Their remaining balance is hanging by a thread, nothing Zayn can't fix, if he has his dad's money and he doesn't. Not a lot of it.

"He's always been a fuckin' sleaze." Niall scoffs. Zayn's tapping his fingers on the wheel. There's not much he can do when the car is being rolled through the wash by itself.

"He's taken at least $1,200, maybe more from the past months." Zayn shoves the papers excluding the transaction log back in the compartment. He puts that in his back pocket.

"Y'know he has. And with the auction—who knows how much tha' lad is gonna be takin'."

Zayn sneering while watching the jets impact the window, giving him the reason to infer how much of a sleaze Harry is. 

It's not about stealing (which Zayn is holding him against) but the backstabbing. It's hard to have income coming accordingly to plan. People are laid off, people are paying credit. Everyone's paying for stuff these days and it includes being a part of Rho. Their alumni are also bringing money into this house, almost like a helping hand. And Zayn's dad is an alumnus who donates more than Zayn pays monthly. It helps a lot, and Zayn has never thought about having such a situation happen right in their fraternity. 

Zayn isn't quite in a cheery mood anymore. Not that his day started happy like he wants—it didn't but this is much worse. He sees Harry by the door with a glare on his face when they roll in the drive way, disregarding how clean his car is much more than before. He could hear everyone whispering about Niall and him together.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing, Zayn?" Harry hollers, gesturing at Niall who can't even find himself to give a damn anymore. Not even the crowd being pulled out from inside—he doesn't mind them. "I specifically instructed Eugene and Daniel to clean my car. Where, in that sentence, did you hear for you and your twink to take my car into a car wash?"

Everyone starts to look at each other. _"Twink meaning they've fucked, so the V.P is dating a Kappa?"_ Zayn overhears. He ignores them all. It wasn't anyone's business.

"I wouldn't be talking like that." Niall laughs, tossing him his keys before tucking both hands in his pullover.

"If you know your place, you wouldn't be _breathing_." Harry shoves his pointed finger in the air directed to Niall as he walks towards him. Eggsy and Ben start to pull him back. "And my business isn't with you. Stop talking."

Niall raises his hands, mockingly surrendering to Harry who faces Zayn afterwards. His face is deadpan, as if this was a game of poker and Zayn's winning. He can hear the boys whispering from the side, asking what he's up to. Humiliating Harry—he thinks it sounds like the best thing in the world. He thinks it sounds? It _does_ sound like the best thing in the world. Nothing can make Zayn happier than to expose him in front of everybody just like Harry when it comes to things that should be consulted in private. He's got this tendency to confront people for his benefit, making them seem small and him superior. 

The opportunity is handed to him on a silver plate, truffles and saffron used as the garnish. Now it's his turn to get the taste.

"We need to talk later." Zayn says softly, but something he sees from Harry's face tells him that his message is getting across well. "Before the party, we're going to meet at Heis where things are quieter. Alright?"

"Um, yeah." Harry nods with a grimace on his face.

"From now until that time, you're specifically not to leave this house unless I'm accompanying you." Zayn crosses his arms. "I mean, there's no reason why you would have to leave right?" He shrugs a shoulder.

"No." Harry answers quicker than Zayn expected. "What the hell are accusing me of?"

"We're past accusations." Zayn gives a light slap on Harry's cheek and walks pass the fuming president who clearly hates the taste of humiliation.

He paces for a while, before turning back to the house. He figures he'll start calling the shots now. "You're all dismissed once you finish what you've started. Please don't take advantage of my kindness, and drop everything midway. If I hear such a thing from Peter or Liam, you will find yourself at a moment in your life where you are begging to be pardoned." Zayn's glaring each and every one of the boys outside. Including Harry who's head is cocked to the left, questioning Zayn's motive but not asking at all. "Today's for you pledges, make the most of it. We start at 10 and from there, who knows when we're done, right? Who knows if we're even alive the next day?" The lads begin to laugh, and some even cheer at Zayn who couldn't hold himself not to curve a smile from the corner of his lips. "Continue as you were. I'll see you later."

There's not much he could say to get them to do their job besides threat them. In reality, Zayn would only write them up based on their disobedience and their failure to cooperate which might not count unless Zayn decides it does. Writing them up would only tell Zayn how they behave when it comes to certain situation. Nothing else. Even then, this isn't his job to do. He's just the one who makes reports based on the information given then Harry checks it off and gives it to the supervisors and committee.

As for Harry, Zayn hopes there isn't going to be some lying between them. Because then, he'll just take it to the chief executive where she'll deal with it her own way, and it might just involve the dean. That's the line Zayn doesn't want to cross.

Zayn visits Leigh, bringing Niall along. It's been some time now they haven't caught up in each other's lives and it's just been so busy. Leigh's focused on her preceptorship at the hospital, giving less time for the both of them to see each other.

"I didn't wanna say anything but a few months ago, you were shit-talking about Niall." Leigh says, getting Niall to turn back to her then Zayn. "Now you're this."

"You were talking shit about me?" Niall tilts his head.

"No. And I didn't plan it to be like this." Zayn shrugs, eyes big enough to fool Leigh that he's naïve.

"Whatever. Are you up to watch the sextet of The Fast and Furious? Unless Niall would like something else?" She taps the handle of the controller on her palm, turning her head his way.

"Why me?" Bug-eyed, he looks at Leigh and Zayn again.

"Me and Zayn love the series. But if you don't, we don't mind watching what you like."

Niall nods understandingly before his face twists. "Paul Walker's hot. Why not?" He huffs.

"Zayn, you going to let him get away with that?" Leigh goes through the list of movies on her Ps3 before clicking _Fast and Furious (2001)._

"Yeah. Paul Walker's hot. Wouldn't mind letting him throw me around, ride me around like the cars he drives." Zayn shrugs, noticing Leigh's eyes shift towards the lad beside him. They're waiting for an answer and it seems like Niall knows they're trying to wring it out of him.

"Cool." Niall quaffs his beer down, ignoring Zayn chortling with Leigh about his answer. They're not laughing at the predicament that Niall thinks they are. He's a level 1 book—so easy to read, so easy to know how pissed off Niall is.

They must be 60 minutes in when Dom's team is holding back while Brian's infiltrating a home with the swat team. Zayn doesn't know when his leg got over Niall's but it's there. Not that he minds. In fact, he wants to be closer. When he looks to his left, where Leigh is sitting rather lonely even with company beside her, he shifts a bit to his left, leaning away from Niall's presence.

"Why don't you ever kiss me like that?" Zayn hears Niall's question—no, more of an invitation when Dom lifts Letty from her ass where she's straddling him against the car.

"Shut up." Zayn laughs, throwing his arm over Niall's stomach which he grabs to hold. Maybe Zayn would kiss Niall like that if they ever find themselves alone without people watching.

He looks to his left again—Leigh more sullen this time. It wasn't about being dateless really. Zayn knows her better than anyone, meaning: boyfriends, girlfriends—it means nothing to her. Having a friend is all she cares about and Zayn's aware he wasn't holding that title so equally to her anymore since Niall's walked in.

"Why don't you call Perrie over?" That got her attention very fast.

"She flew back to New York three days ago." Leigh shrugs.

Niall leans forward, eyeing Leigh down at her side of the couch. "Ya like her?"

That really got her attention. The white of her eyes was all the two can see, along with her dilated pupils and her head jutted forward in shock. Slightly, her jaw dropped and started stuttering. Looking off to the side, Niall can already tell what her answer is without saying a word. He leans back, smirking to the possible, yet actually certain idea that Leigh does like Perrie.

"Anyway, Leigh—are you coming tonight?" His other arm reaches for her.

"I wouldn't miss your parties for the world. Honestly." She straightens her position on the couch. "The only annoying part is your extravagancy."

"I like it." Zayn shrugs. "I like dressing up from time to time. Besides, it's what we're known for. Don't lie. I'm sure you love getting into a dress with those heels on." Rhetorically just any heels. 

"Can't say I blame you." Meaning Leigh does admire the whole classy lifestyle. He has seen what she has in her closet.

"Just come before 11. Girls are free before then."

"Are you coming, Niall?" Leigh looks at him.

"Nope!" He exaggerates the 'p'. He's almost proud of it. "But I'm hoping that Zayn will make up for it."

"I will, I will. I always do."

"Yeah, yeah."

"I don't think I'm exaggerating when I say Rho will cut my balls off and then report of a misconduct between Kappa and Rho. All that sort if I ever step foot in that house anyway." Niall laughs. "It's not like it matters anymore. After what we learned about Harry, nothing about me being in their house can't be compared to what that lad's done."

"What happened?" She queries.

"Can't say, Leigh. But until I hear what Harry has to say, the secret stays between us, Niall. Please? No one can know about it."

"Yes, I promise."

"You guys are no fun. I'm going to take a shower." She grumps, walking towards her room where she closes her door halfway. She exhales, slinging her towel over her shoulder before entering the washroom adjacent to her bedroom door.

Zayn can't focus much on the movie when Niall's scent starts to kick in even more—something like cool mist from an ocean wave. Zayn's positive it's aftershave he's using as a cologne again. He's too hairless to shave. Niall continues to hold his hand until Zayn leans his body against Niall's arm.

"Tell me if your arm starts to numb." Zayn mutters, eyes closed halfway.

"I'll be fine" Niall raises his arm so that he can hug it around Zayn instead of his scrawny arms being used as a pillow.

"What do you want to do tonight?" Zayn grumbles eyes shut now, not paying any attention to the movie.

"Tonight?" Niall wants him to repeat, making sure he knows what the lad's talking about.

Zayn grabs the arm on his shoulder, bringing it right around his neck. His hand settles right at Zayn's cheek where his forefinger caresses lightly on his skin. "Mhm. At one or two in the morning, we'll do something. When everyone's off their minds."

"I'm gonna be asleep." Niall laughs. "And you'll be one of those out of their minds."

"I won't be." Zayn raises his legs so he's lying horizontally on the sofa, head on Niall's lap. "Not that much." 

"I'll take you up on your offer. But don't come to Kappa at 1, banging on the front door like a loon."

"Okay. I won't." Not like Zayn will ever again. It's the same as walking right into a bear trap. "I wish you could come. I'll be deathly bored without you there tonight."

"Right. Don't talk like that. I'm sure it'll be great." Says Niall, combing in Zayn's hair with his fingers. "But yeah, later tonight'll be better."

"Oh, you already got something planned?" Zayn looks up at Niall.

Shrugging, he says, "It's a secret. Not for you t'know until then."

Zayn frowns, grabbing the hand going through his hair. "Now I'm worried. Seriously, what is it?" 

"It's nothing special, I swear." He pats Zayn's cheek. "I just think it might be when you're in the right company."

"I guess that eases me."

"Fucking twat. What'd you think I'm plannin'?"

"Vandal adventures."

"Shit head." Niall slaps him lightly. "I'm retired." If only that were easy to believe.

"Just to be on the safe side of things." Zayn laughs, letting his eyes shut.

When Zayn gets home, his mood completely shifts down from being very content to choleric. The idea of Harry comes back to him, and it messes up his whole arrangement of him tying his tie. Not that he's trying to look good tonight, he's trying to look simply good enough for the occasion, yet lazy enough that Niall won't mock his attire when he meets him later tonight.

If he's learned anything, wearing a suit jacket would just solve both of his problems. Once he's done with the whole extravagant scene, he can just throw it off somewhere else and go out with a plain white collar shirt and black trousers.

The time isn't even 10, and guests are already pouring in. Smart of the girls, they're free before eleven. As for the guys, it's a straight 5 at the door. With Harry's scheming, Zayn would bump it up to 10 just to make up for one of Harry's withdrawals.

Zayn's holding a drink he decided to mix about with sprite and gin, and with the other hand, he's watching his Rolex watch. He's waiting for 10 to strike from his watch, hoping Harry would remember how urgent they have to talk. He's hoping he's not drowning under alcohol already when the night hasn't even started.

The bass is thumping, drowning out every single thought Zayn's having. Still the party hasn't started officially, and somehow, people are finding ways to dance through Drake's track, Karaoke. Hips grinding to the beat, Zayn's enjoying half of the moment watching the two girls pressing on the girl in the middle. They're not in beat at all. Though they seem to believe so.

He tilts his head, trying to angle it out if proximity exists between their three bodies rubbing together. So far, there's none—nothing to complain about from Zayn's view. It's the tight dresses up to their thighs that gives Zayn the delusion of them being thick. Between the three, there was only one, and she was behind the middle girl. Such bad placement for a girl like her that Zayn's impression continues to decrease by the second.

If it's not the smell of perfume or cologne, it's pot from the kitchen. There's three joints being passed around, along with two flavoured cigars with kush stuffed within.

"Little brother, what are you doing?" Zayn huffs.

Snatching the blunt from Liam's lips, Zayn holds it between his forefinger and thumb, taking a long toke. The scratchy feeling against the walls of his lungs forces Zayn to slowly puff out the smoke, until a cloud of haze escapes his lips, blurring Liam from his sight.

He shouldn't have taken a toke so early into the party. When he sees Harry coming from the hallway, he can already feel it hitting him. Glazed eyes and low lids, he passes the blunt back to Liam.

"You wanted to talk, right?" Harry says by his ear, and Zayn gives one nod, passing his lighter to Liam to burn the end again.

"Yeah, we need—we need to talk about—" Zayn grumbles incoherent, letting Harry walk him out the kitchen.

"We'll take it upstairs." Harry shoves him up the stairs. He nearly trips, and all he thinks about is Heis which they're supposed to be going, not upstairs.

The stealing of the money—yeah, that's what Zayn wants to consult him about. Not about himself feeling needy for Niall, not about the way he thinks Harry looks rather fit tonight. Especially that, Zayn has to force out of his head. Niall wouldn't like it.

He tries not to blink as much because he feels like he's going to crash very soon. It's times like these Zayn regrets drinking and smoking at the same time. A simple glass of gin and sprite wouldn't necessarily turn Zayn to a complete wreck. Except, Zayn accidentally poured the gin halfway to the top, and splashed only a bit of sprite. Not enough to drown the burning taste of gin going down his throat. It depends on the weed too and frankly, it was very loud.

Zayn locks the door right after they get in Zayn's room. It was profoundly quieter than Zayn had expected. "Harry, what the hell do you think you're doing—withdrawing money without the consent of Rho?"

"What?" The life from Harry's face completely drops.

"You definitely heard me."

"Fuck, Zayn!" Harry groans, running his hand through his hair out of frustration. "How'd you find out?"

"It was in your car!" Zayn retaliates too early against Harry. He was expecting their argument to happen a tad earlier. "Your transactions state the amount of money you've been withdrawing from Rho's account."

"Who else knows?" Harry paces, hand on his hip.

"Niall! He found it!" Zayn groans, weakly shoving Harry out of his way. "What were you thinking?"

"Fuck!" Harry's hand shakes directly towards the lad blazed out of his mind to notice how pissed he is. "Tell that bitch to shut his mouth or I swear, I'll cut his tongue out."

"You're not touching, Niall." Zayn scoffs. "This is your fault, Harry. Rho's currently hanging on $10,230 worth of a balance, and what the fuck are we supposed to do with that?"

"I'm making simple payments. That's all."

"How long have you been doing this?"

"It's just this and last month. I swear." Harry sighs. "I didn't think taking a thousand was a lot. Rho was doing well based on finances the last time I checked."

"We're not." Zayn can feel a headache coming in. "What are you doing with the money?"

"I told you enough. I'm just making payments."

"Harry, someone's bound to find out about the withdrawals you're making. You're lucky it's me."

"And your goddamn boyfriend? He's gonna tell Louis about it then have me kicked out without sparing a second."

"He promised he wouldn't. I trust him."

"You trust Niall after three months?"

"What does that mean?"

"Do you trust him at the same level you trust us?" Harry laughs scornfully. "Your one month boyfriend versus your brothers who have been with you these pass few years? Are you going to confide the innermost detail of your life to Niall instead of your family?"

"There's a boundary!" Zayn concludes, evoking Harry to narrow his eyebrows in.

Anticipating for Harry's answer, it leads to silence. Muffled music from the living room filled the mute room, proving where their argument has led them: silence and despondent on both sides. Just like that, the two of them stop talking. It wouldn't be so far now that this silence becomes official between them.

A boundary? Zayn never thought there would be a boundary set between him and the whole house. Realizing the definition of boundary, he begins to speculate how much of it is true. He's hiding things from his brothers that he has always been allowed to open to them, lying about his health just to spend his day with Niall, not to mention his growing hatred for a few of them. The boundary—that's where it lies. Standing 10 ft high, 20 inches thick between him and his family, just like Berlin wall.

Harry comes right towards him—something Zayn didn't expect at all because of his temper. Maybe he did when arguments is the one thing that really gets Harry going. Zayn should've moved from his way, or pushed him and left when the discussion is clearly over. His face was getting hot, his heartbeat going erratic like the music downstairs. 

Once Harry had Zayn pinned against the door, he pressed right on him. Zayn the meat between Harry and the door, had his breath trembling from his mouth. Harry didn't think about anything at all—pushed his forehead against Zayn's, nose brushing one another. He was drunk, and he isn't so sure he can move Harry off of him, even if that's all he's thinking about.

"There's a boundary?" Harry quips quietly, smirk curling from his lips. His lips parted, a breath escaping over Zayn's lips. He felt a touch between them. It's barely a touch to Harry, but it was everything for Zayn to turn his head away.

"Yes..." Zayn asserts quietly with Harry pressing his forehead on the side of Zayn's head. Eyes downcast to his shoes; never did Harry make Zayn feel so worthless than now. "Niall's different... Nothing more to say."

Harry nods condescendingly even if they both know it's a type of understanding not seen mutually.

"Is he really?" Harry asks right at his ear. 

"Harry, stop." Zayn shook his head. "We're finished."

"Does he know what breaks you?" Harry asks again, tilting his head down. Zayn tried everything in his body not to breathe so heavily like his chest is forcing him to. It's the proximity and breath on his neck that makes him edgy—not Harry. It's just his lips barely kissing his neck, leaving wet spots as he trails down. Not Harry.

Zayn chokes up on his own breathing, feeling gentle kisses tracing his neck like he was meat. He felt like an animal, caged to be played with. Can't move even if he wants to.

Niall never made him feel like that; he cares about him more than just sex. He gets Zayn to talk about things he would never bring up or think about. Niall cares enough to study with him for exams so he doesn't find himself in academic probation. 

They're completely face to face, his cheek in Harry's hand. Even when he finally told him they're finished, to stop, he keeps going. Why does he keep going? He keeps going until Harry's lips tease against his, brushing softly against his. Harry would go as far as to parting Zayn's lips for him with his thumb pulling his chin down, just to push his own in between. Zayn pulled his head back, hits his head against the door. He clenched his eyes shut, his hand balling into a fist.

"I told you we're over." Zayn found the means to tell him with a confident voice. Maybe it's the poison he can taste on his lips—the one he wipes away with the back of his hand. 

Just when he realized, his fist ended up striking Harry's jaw. He falls back, and with no space between Zayn and the door, he still tries to take a step back. His fist is shaking and it hurts so much, his other hand is trying to sooth the pain down. "Your head is so high up your ass that you don't even believe me. You're fucking shit."

Harry's cursing, holding his jaw, spit flying between his teeth and lip. "F-fuck you! Just because your daddy funds this fucking house, doesn't mean shit! Enjoy your night. Might be your last."

Pain from those words? A lot from what Zayn expected to hear from such a statement said by Harry. His left eye winces with a crooked smile, showing no remorse of what's happened tonight. No pain. No guilt. There's nothing. 

"Maybe the both of us should." Zayn shrugs with both shoulders. "Hope you have your reasons ready to testify."

—

Fry after fry, Zayn shoves them through his mouth. It might be the pot talking but McDonalds has never tasted this good until now. This was the only food place open after 11 for drive-thru because McDonalds knows how needy people get after midnight and use it to their benefit. It works.

Niall let him grab fries non-stop while they sit in the parking lot, hoping for some kind of miracle. He nods his chin towards Zayn when he points to the fries they were supposed to share. Keeping count, Niall believes this is his fifth time asking he wants some and this would be his sixth time answering "go ahead". He finds satisfaction from his coke and watching Zayn sober himself up.

Zayn can barely think right now when the night is coming back to him, why he's not wearing his black tie anymore, why he's buzzed to the point he feels like throwing up, why his lip was bleeding. That's just the little things, because when he starts to remember boundaries and money, his head hangs low between his bent knees.

"It's 2:10. Wanna go home?" Niall proposes; doesn't get an immediate reaction from Zayn.

"Can't go home." He says quite simple when the train of silence passes by. Quite simple for Niall to understand he's not speaking through the weed or alcohol. "I kissed Harry."

"What?" Niall exhales. Nobody would have expected that. Not even Zayn. 

But his hand was still trembling when he tried to touch his temple. It felt cold and hot at the same time, so he had to grip his jacket by the bend of his elbow to stop. Couldn't face Niall after he confessed. He told himself it was a good thing, but he kissed Harry, and that's unforgivable. 

"Your hand is shaking," Niall reached for it. His knuckles were bruised dark red. His efforts to sooth it in his hands were working. Though, they shook and hurt in every way. "What the hell happened?"

"I told him that I know about him stealing. We fought, and then he had me against the door, and he was kissing me, and I should've pushed him away earlier, but I fucking froze. I told him we're done because I'm with you but he thought I was joking, and then I punched him." Zayn pressed his free hand over his mouth. "W-why would I be joking? I must've done something."

"Zayn, it's not on you." Niall sounds angry, his voice deep and low. He held Zayn's aching hand and shook his head. "You didn't do anything. I can talk to Louis and you can stay over. Don't you say it was your fault."

"I-I know it's not. But I feel really bad." Zayn rested his forehead on Niall's shoulder and his arm wrapped around Zayn right away. "I'm sorry. I can't go back just yet."

"I'm not going anywhere either. Besides," Niall knocks his knee against Zayn, getting the lad to raise his head up from sulking. "How are you going to get back?"

They were at least two miles from the house. Zayn forgot about that.

"Hitch a ride. Hope that I get home..." Zayn lulls, swaying left and right. There's the pot talking.

"Hope that I don't get shipped to Vegas for prostitution..."

"Because there's a high chance of that happening here."

"I don't know anymore." Zayn scoffs.

"What are you going to do?"

"Who knows? I might ask Leigh if I can crash at her place for some time. Until I get things sorted out."

"You wouldn't have to in the first place if Rho honestly believes that you're family." 

Zayn grimaces when he asks himself about how much of it is true. And it's just about a hundred per cent.

"But I liked the way you stood up to Harry." Niall finally passes the coke to Zayn. "Quite fucking hot. Wish I saw the punch."

"It's not going to be the last." Zayn rattles the cup before taking a sip. "Can we go to the studio?"

Driving two miles back, they bring their bags of remaining fries and chicken nuggets with them and Niall's blankets he just decided to bring because he doesn't wanna sit his bottom on the cold floor, there's not much they can do but sit around. Breaking in to go to Zayn's section of the studio, they let their time pass by eating what they have remained in the bag until they can see the sunrise between two buildings.

Niall's new playlist made with Zayn's help that they titled _Club Paradise_ plays in the background while they finish their leftover McDonalds meal. The more Zayn goes back to it, the more he realizes how shit it tastes on his tongue so he lets Niall finish it off while he sorts out his brushes and cans.

It's weeks since he's been here. His Iron Man figure is hidden in safe storage until the auction comes where he'll drop it off the day before the auction begins. Looking at his tray of brushes, he's always been organized and seeing the container that holds his tools to work; he couldn't be more disappointed in himself.

Zayn blinks a few times before answering, "I built him—for the auction." Zayn starts to roll Iron Man out the closet.

"You alone?" Niall seems like he's amazed by the sculpture, the way his fingers trace the model.

A few blinks again. "Not quite. I only planned it and showed everyone else in the house what I've thought. Uh, I also got the material together while a few guy helped me with the lighting."

"At least you have something. Louis' blank on ideas." Niall crosses his arms.

"So was Harry, until I came along as his brain now." Zayn sighs.

"You actually built this. And it lights up?" Niall laughs quietly.

"Mhm." Zayn gives a quick nod.

"People will love this!" Niall stares, his eyebrows crease in with several nods as he pats Iron Man. "I'd buy it if it isn't gonna be costing thousands."

"It's pretty trashy." Zayn shrugs. "I can't believe you actually like it."

Niall continues to wander with Zayn. The spray-paint cans were just so dirty. Not only is there paint dripping from the nozzle—the caps weren't closed properly at all. Nothing irked him more than the tools and paints he uses aren't organized to his taste. 

"What were you thinking when you painted these?" Niall asks, looking at each canvas carefully. He remembers them being here to first time when he came. Niall just never bothered to ask.

Almost the size of bristol board, they hung around all over, while some of the 50x80 inch canvases are leaning against the wall on his table. All were different but still somewhat similar to each other. Acidic colours whirling together, following patterns such as floral, compressed waves, and mosaic tile patterns with colours that still kept that acid affect. It adds vibrancy to Zayn's plain white studio.

"Nothing really." Zayn separates the brushes he uses for the background from the detailing brushes. "Sometimes, art isn't really that deep. Maybe because I don't delve into my soul to find my artistic style or whatever. I just like doing certain things."

"T-that's a great answer." Niall starts to laugh. "I can tell that you're really honest. Sometimes, it's hard to believe art is that deep when people paint a whole entire canvas orange 'cause I saw that in an art gallery once!"

"Me too." Zayn kicks a container properly into the shelf before going to the sink.

He pouts his lip at the mirror, wiping the dry blood off his lip and proceeds to wash his face all over. Mildly unimpressed, he turns completely away from the mirror when he wants to see nothing from himself. Already aware of how tired he looks and how his eyes are fading from pink, he doesn't need to see it any longer.

He looks at his watch as he lifts the latch before twisting it off his wrist; it's about 3 now. He knows the party is still going, and it'll be around 4 when everything comes to a halt.

"Niall, you should go." Zayn walks closer to Niall, shoving his watch down his pocket. Niall looks up at him, and all he can do is shrug with a tightlipped smile.

"You want me to go?" He lifts his eyebrow at Zayn, fixing his blanket around his shoulders. Can't believe he brought his Arsenal blanket from his car.

"No, but it's late." Zayn exhales, letting his shoulders relax.

"I'm staying."

"Please Niall. You don't have to." Zayn is almost groaning. "Doesn't Louis ask where you are? Doesn't he get mad?"

"I tell him I'm with you. He's pretty annoyed, but what's he gonna do?"

Zayn doesn't fight it anymore and sits beside Niall who's overlooking the streets from the window on Zayn's old bed-sheet he uses to throw paint on. He hates how pensive he's becoming right now. Niall's here beside him and he can't even enjoy his company without thinking about his fight with Harry. Almost nothing would make it better and Zayn's thinking Niall can. It doesn't and he's wishing. The only thing he's thankful about is the way Niall asserts himself to stay because he doesn't want him to actually leave. He's the only one Zayn has right now.

"As much as I hate Harry," Niall turns to Zayn. "He's smart enough to figure out that Rho needs you. Can't throw you out even if that lad wants... To."

It's almost sickening the way Zayn looks back at Niall. Eyes all colour-struck (if such a thing exists), he'll never talk to him without looking somewhere else. Just his eyes.

He wants to tell him the words that hang on the tip of his tongue. The night is meant for the both of them to say something and Zayn sees that—sitting in his studio, food by their side, street lamps as their only source of light. Every word counts and he can't find the ones he needs to complete his god awful cheesy sentence of appreciation. He's good with his words, but he's not the best.

He tilts his head a bit, nearing himself to Niall who feels mutual about closing the space between their lips. Slowly, not rushed—neither of them wanted this to end so quickly. Especially when this is their only time alone—allowable time alone. They really hate the rules between Rho and Kappa entering each other's house. No one knows who made that rule a thing but whoever they are, probably really hated the opposing house. It's not in Zayn's intentions to purposely fall for someone in Kappa. If it was, he would've done this a long time ago, where he didn't have to go through what he and his ex had.

Reaching his hand over to the side of Niall's neck, he moves his lips down—leaving a touch at the corner of his lips, one at his jaw line. Niall knows what that means, and tilts his head to the right. Not for a long wait, Zayn closed his mouth at the crook of his neck, working his way to leave a mark on him. Soft too, Zayn didn't want to rush that kind of art. His tongue runs over while his mouth is enclosed around his skin, softly grazing his teeth onto his skin before Zayn closes his lips, leaving a little sound of his lips sucking. 

Growing to the intensity of Zayn's determined mouth, Niall closes his eyes with his eyebrows furrowed close together, his own hand slipping down under his own trousers and boxers. He lets out a breath—one much too tight for Zayn just because of a neck kiss so he stops at his ear, breathing before he can turn his head.

"Wait, stop—" Zayn exhales under his breath, sounding almost genuinely disappointed if he wasn't smiling and quietly laughing. His hand slips under the band of Niall's sweats and boxers, pushing Niall's hand off his dick before he starts stroking it from the shaft. 

Niall scoffs and slips his hand into Zayn's hair as Zayn starts to close his mouth back on to his neck, gnawing tentatively. He knows Niall can't have his mouth preoccupied, when he's always dropping his jaw to his cock getting fucked in some way. Zayn won't blame him, he knows the feeling of fingers massaging right around his head. Gripped right into the roots of his hair, Zayn can feel Niall beginning to circulate into his hand, twisting his wrist up his head. And he's already wet; his hand feels for it.

He pulls his hand out, dragging the bands of his sweats and briefs below his waist with Niall helping him out too, he kicks them down to his ankles where he's sliding his feet to remove them off completely. Teamwork—makes things way easier.

They pull away from each other, still close but far from each other that they can strip themselves off without elbowing one another's face. 

Niall watches Zayn undo the four buttons of his shirt, and he learns, being patient is one of the hardest things to go through.

By the chin, Niall pushes Zayn's mouth against his as he brings himself over to put his other leg on his the other side of his hip. Settled on his knees, he's hunched over to let his tongue meet Zayn's.

He feels Zayn's hands snaking all over his skin; from the curves of his sides, his hands would make its way up and move to the back where they'd course all the way down to the small of his back. And the embrace of his arm would be enough to squeeze Niall's waist.

Niall lets Zayn leave his mouth to part his lips down in a trail on his chest. He enjoys it because Zayn's got the perfect lips to take his skin in between them.

He sits up on his kiness as Zayn makes his way down to his stomach, his mouth catches around his head. Holding Niall's hips, Zayn throats deeper down while he's pushing for his cock further down, and Niall couldn't writhe to his extent being on his knees. He's biting his lip with his arm resting over Zayn's shoulder and hand caressing down his back.

Niall isn't enjoying the moment as much as he would—and it wouldn't be so terrible as it sounds. To him, the feeling is different. It's a bone-crushing feeling in his thighs that give that surge in him to yell at the top of his lungs, yet he wants it all to stop. He's gotten used to the tones of brown in Zayn's eyes that he wants to see himself in them every second, feel his mouth against his and no other something. He's selfish even when he's won in a non-existent game of being all to Zayn's. 

"Like that?" Zayn asks when he pulls from Niall's dick, kissing right into corner of his groin.

"Oh god, yes." Niall hums when he sets Zayn to lie his back on the floor, with his mouth making its way up from his sternum to his neck.

And he moves up to his mouth where he's trying to taste something so desperately that he's so familiar with already. With his hips, he's grinding his dick over Zayn's, knowing how needy he is. They didn't really prepare for this to happen—even when they expected it to happen. But they're doing their best without lube.

—

Zayn wakes up to Niall on the phone from Louis asking where he is. It's around 10 on a Sunday morning, and after last night—they're entangled with each other's limb over Zayn's old bed sheet he uses when he's throwing paint. There's a few stains from his other projects, and he's not going to spend any time cleaning oil and acrylic off. 

"... I'm at the studio just outside of campus... With Zayn... Helping with his all-nighter final project..." There's a burst of laughter from the speakers. "Bullshit? You claim bullshit?" Niall exclaims. That's because it was. Zayn just laughs, hoping no one had walked by his floor and noticed that they slept together. They rarely get the chance to do anything with this rivalry. Plus, Niall's car blanket is hanging over them like its life depends on it. It's not even big enough to cover the both of them top to bottom and all around.

"I'm his muse..." Niall continues, looking at Zayn for assurance. When he doesn't get a mocking laugh, he looks away. "What's up? Yeah... I'll do breakfast. You're buyin'... We'll meet you then." Niall hangs up, putting his phone aside before turning to Zayn, elbow prompting his head up.

"We?" Zayn asks. "Breakfast with your friends?"

"Louis doesn't think you're a friend but he knows you're alright." That's ten steps higher than where Harry is.

"Oh." Zayn's face twists. "I think I'm busy."

Niall's eyebrows narrow in, thumbing Zayn's side. "No you aren't. What a fucking liar. You're here with me." 

There's an ease when Zayn hears _'with me'_. That's because he is, and it's unbelievable they're here, recovering from last night. "Well, I _was_ going to go home and finish some things." Zayn rubs his eyes, feeling hot again.

He feels a laugh over his skin from Niall, then feels Niall's arm hugging around his stomach getting tighter. "That'll take like, what, twenty minutes?" He closes his lips over Zayn's, thinking about how long he hasn't kissed him. It's funny, Zayn's lips tastes more like Niall himself. 

Zayn pulls away, before forgetting his reason that he can't and shouldn't come. "Louis is going to eat me alive. You know that."

Only, Niall presses his lips back over Zayn's, forgetting that they're in between a conversation. Thought, if it doesn't matter to Niall, then Zayn shouldn't have to worry. He parts for Zayn's sake of getting an answer, smiling him down. "I do but, you bite back."

—

They meet Louis straight from the studio. Niall had worn his sweats and shirt from yesterday, styling along with a bed head like Zayn. His clothes from last night smells of the party, including Mary Jane's scent that Zayn feels last night's snack is about to make an appearance the longer he smells his shirt.

They're at a traditional breakfast house, a place wafting with bacon and coffee. Just looking everywhere, Zayn hasn't eaten a proper breakfast in such a long time now. It's always been leftovers or microwaveables. Thinking about it, now is a good time to change his eating habits.

As for this moment, Zayn feels rather really uneasy. It's Louis' staring that keeps him from breathing so much. It's even his tone as they converse that Zayn is limited to sitting one way, that he's not allowed to fix his posture or move right back to the backing of the booth. Though he's kind enough to let Niall sit beside him. That's something, right?

"All-nighter," Louis lifts a brow at Niall, like Zayn isn't here at all. Niall looks at Zayn who quickly turns away, drinking his tea, wondering what Louis means when he's registered something between them. "I see."

"What, Louis?" Niall's big eyes questioningly look at Louis.

"Never mind." He shakes his head. "How's Zayn treating you?" His eyes suddenly widen at Zayn, staring intently with this look of insanity on his face. "Do I have to conjure some shit up so he'd get in trouble with the committee—"

"No!" Zayn protests in his mug. "I haven't done anything! Fraternity affairs have been completely out of our steady."

"Stop it, Louis." Niall laughs, taking Zayn chin in his hand. Zayn can't push Niall's hand away as much as he wants to. And he really does when he makes Zayn pout out. "Look at him. Of course he's been good. A bit of a fighter but he's been good."

"Excuse me. If I _may_ , why don't you ask how Niall's been treating me, 'cause I have a lot to say—" Zayn doesn't take in how loud he's getting until he slaps the table to prove his point.

"You do now?" Louis laughs, and Niall's flourishing with curiosity when he turns to him, his elbow holding his chin.

"Yes. N-Niall's been really cool. S'a good guy, y'know..." His voice disappears into the mug, tipping it back over his lips.

"How revolting," Louis makes a face, but there's a laugh that loosens Zayn's muscles by a little bit. He's still stressed. "I guess you're cool, if Niall says you're treating him good. This is a test, by the way."

"Cool." Zayn peeps. But it's not. Knowing that now, he'll surely mess everything up.

It's not the test Zayn thought of it to be to determine if he's a good boyfriend to Niall. It was a statement. Listening between the lines, Zayn knew Louis was doing this because he's generally looking out for Niall. On behalf of Louis, Zayn believes the entire house of Kappa is. The intimidation factor to send Louis out worked on Zayn. He's been well-behaved for someone who's itching to get out. Except, Louis is paying for their breakfast. Everyone but Niall went with a small course.

Zayn wishes Rho had done this for him because this meeting is reaching to Zayn stronger than what Rho says about family. All talk, no do for Rho. It's disappointing how immature his family is compared to Kappa who they made seem the worst to understand the concept of bonding and family. 

Louis eventually does warm up to Zayn through the week. In fact, it's been sparking things between the two houses that questions against Zayn's loyalty have come up in meetings held in secret. He doesn't want to admit it to anyone, but he's happy after so long.

They've become so close, Louis has become a part of the group that chills occasionally at Leigh's. It's usually after school on Friday's or if either person isn't doing anything. Zayn and Niall haven't been given rules whether they're allowed to kiss and be lovey towards with the company or not. They've been lenient, keeping it within a kiss on a cheek and hand holding.

They're not annoying, at least they try not to be.

"Put the two—" Zayn tries to be quiet as possible between their game of President. He's bum this round for losing the last, and he's determined to win through him and Niall. He taps Niall's two of clubs, then his fingers swipe over the rest of his hand which were double tens.

"Zayn, stop helping him." Louis flicks Zayn's knee when Niall puts the two down, clearing the floor. He slides his double tens, finishing as President.

"He doesn't know how to play." Zayn scoffs, finishing as vice-president when he throws down double jacks.

"Trust me, he knows! He's lying." Louis puts down a card he wasn't planning to end up with. He groans when everyone begins to laugh at him. Zayn thinks he should help Louis out the next round. Everyone knows finishing a hand with two automatically makes you a bum. No one points it out for him. He just understands that he's sacrificing his two high cards to Niall in the next game if Louis doesn't rage.

"I honestly don't know how to play this game." Niall laughs, patting Zayn's knee.

"I know you're lying, but it's okay." Zayn puts his hand over Niall's. "As long as Louis loses, it's alright."

"Friggin'—" Louis scoffs, messing the pile of cards before he begins packing it altogether. "Screw this. Let's watch a movie."

"Horror." Niall suggests. And Zayn is already claiming his seat—standing up and sitting himself at the side, staying quiet. Per usual.

"Oh!" Louis laughs. "You're fast! But can you actually handle it because the last time, you had nightmares."

"Yeah yeah, even turn the lights off." Niall looks back at the lights in the kitchen where Liam is, washing his hands.

"All grown up?" Louis snorts, turning Leigh's Ps4 on by the PS button on the controller. When he gets his account on Netflix set up, he's already got a movie in mind that worries Niall. It's probably best he keeps his mouth shut about Louis' quick decision on a movie. He will probably get more coming to him from Louis than the movie itself.

Liam turns the lights off, covers the windows which they get light from just before he joins Zayn on the couch who's observing the group amongst themselves.

"Zayn, I think we have to go." Liam whispers very quietly, rousing suspicions to Zayn when everyone has made this company a regular thing.

Zayn juts his head and lowers his eyebrows at Liam, keeping the secrets between them.

"Peter just texted me saying they're having a meeting." Liam shows his phone to Zayn. "The chapter, at least. The pledges aren't included this time on an account of something I've been doing and you aren't there when you should be and I—I think we have to go." It takes a second for Zayn to read it, and a millisecond for Zayn to begin this bitter resentment towards Harry.

Zayn didn't get a text, which meant this meeting was going to be about his loyalty towards Rho, again. He hadn't realized his eyes were closed in his attempt to keep his temper contained until Niall had been quietly calling his name with everyone relying on Niall's comfort to ease Zayn back to the company. He found his palm pressing on his face, fingers rubbing the start of his beanie just because. Well, he's pissed, for fuck sakes. No amount of appeasement is going to fix his harbouring anger towards Harry. And he was dragging Liam down as well because of his vendetta on Zayn that he's been quite aware of.

He blinks his eyes open—a quick flash of Louis and Leigh on the floor, Liam by his side, and Niall on his other side. His cheeks are getting hotter and hotter, feeling the the burn from everyone's eyes staring at him. Even Niall's blue eyes seared through, sitting at the arm rest—looking down on him so discerningly. 

Niall is the only person Zayn feels he could talk to. But things are different now, because Louis is here, making an effort to have some kind of relationship with him. Shit, the way Louis was here as a president himself—Zayn felt the need to disclose Harry's behaviour towards him. Knowing it wouldn't be right, he keeps it tucked inside, behind all the other things he keeps piling over and over. This would just prove Harry right about his loyalty. Yet, Harry hasn't been living up to that overused word, has he? 

Liam can't understand how fraternities work just yet. It's only been a couple of months since he and the other pledges have made their presence. He has to look at problems in a formal view, and push the friend relationship aside. Zayn knows Liam would defend him based on their closeness, but he wouldn't defend him far enough for the boys to relieve him from acting out of his title. 

"Zayn," Niall says his name, ringing him back to reality again, his arm hugging his head as his fingers tuck the hair poking out from his beanie. "What's wrong?"

"I'm going out for a smoke." Zayn sighs, and Liam's eyes widen because he knows that's not what he's leaving for.

"Hey," Niall sighs, arm going around his shoulder. "Y'know I hate when you smoke. You smell like shit."

Somehow, a simple analogy is all that takes for Zayn to smile. Except, the longer he thought about Harry and Niall, he was balancing on a teeter-totter of a relationship he's trying to keep stable.

"No. It was just a sorry excuse to leave and fucking kill Harry." Zayn exhales.

Liam's mouth drops open this time, unexpectedly hearing something he should've expected. He wasn't the only one who had a reaction. Louis should've been praising Zayn, but there's resentment a person shouldn't have against their 'friend'. "It'll be quick." He shrugs, getting up from his seat.

"What's going on?" Louis asks, on the brim of hostility. He didn't know what anyone knew, and this was totally concerning to him when he's bearing the same title as Harry.

"Tiny little feud," Zayn sighs when he puts his jacket on. "Which I have to deal with."

"We'll be back." Liam holds up a finger, stepping over Louis' leg to get to his coat.

"No, I'll be back." Zayn holds Liam's shoulder, walking him away from the door.

"What are you doing?" Liam exclaims. "I have to go with you."

"No, you don't." Zayn laugh is laced with scorn. "Believe me, you're not the problem."

"But–"

"Zayn, let me come with you." Niall jumped off the arm rest, snatching his jacket from a chair he hung his jacket over.

"Hurry up." Zayn held the door open for Niall. Not that he needed to—the door can hold itself open.

No one asked why Zayn let Niall come along with him. But they knew why, and didn't talk about it after they left.

—

"Do you even smoke anymore?" Niall asks, stopping his thoughts when it's been too quiet and too long that Zayn's keeping his temper to himself. Their time has been accordingly divided between their schedule, so they see each other from time to time. When they do, Zayn doesn't smoke at all. As for the times that they don't, Niall can't say whether he does or not.

"Nah, I quit." Zayn shrugs. "But it's hard. I feel the need for my fingers to be doing something all the time. The two minutes I usually go or feel for a smoke, I get really itchy and play with my lighter."

"Instead of painting with brushes, use your fingers. You can be cheesy, and feel the colours between your fingers." Niall suggests with a sheepish shrug. "Or hold my hand... Because it's cold, and I haven't bought any gloves yet."

"Smooth." Zayn laughs, clasping Niall's hand with both hands, rubbing it warm as they wait for the light to change. "It's winter, by the way."

"No, it's not!" Niall laughs loudly. "It just snowed last week of November because we've got shit, confused weather!" Niall offers his other hand to Zayn to warm up. "And so are you. Talk before killing Harry."

"Thanks for the tip. Saved Harry from my wrath." Zayn chuckles at his last word.

"Okay, Zeus." Niall offers his other hand to Zayn to warm up.

Niall and Zayn had split their ways when they got on campus. Niall planned to sit in Heisman during Zayn's trip back to the house.

It racked Zayn's nerves to be walking towards his supposedly so-called, home. Home should surely not feel cold and unwelcoming. The keys were in his hands, but his knuckles tapping on the door is his resolution because how safe would it be for him to enter in his own home?

"Z-Zayn," Ant looks at him like he's the one out of place. "Have you not got your keys?"

"I do. I just couldn't open the door." Zayn sighs, feeling his heart pounding.

"Why's that, huh?" Ant huffs, before swallowing.

"Because I thought I wouldn't be welcomed." Zayn laughs when he sees the pledges poking their heads out from the stairs.

"Why wouldn't you be?" Ant asks, dejectedly. His head leans by the edging of the door.

"I got that vibe when I heard you guys are having meeting." Zayn leads Ant inside, before closing the door behind them. They walk into the dining room where everyone's sitting down. Zayn gives a tight grin to everyone, and an even tighter one especially for Harry who's mouth dropped like some of the boys. The others went on a different approach, lips in an 'o' fashion, oohing quietly and turning to Harry.

It's dead quiet in the house, besides the pledges making their way downstairs to see what is happening. Zayn would've loved if they came to watch but he knew they weren't supposed to be doing the sneaking around espionage thing.

"See, I thought meetings included everybody." Zayn gestured an oval over the table. "So unless, you guys wanna write me down for missing one, get me in trouble and all for a stupid reason, then I assume this doesn't have anything to do with Liam or myself. Harry?"

Harry keeps his mouth shut, letting Zayn assume he can continue. Not that anyone has the guts to stop him. The pledges are eating this shit up.

"Since we're family, you guys are able to understand that I like Niall, which of course, is why we're seeing each other." Zayn gestures through his words. "Except, it seems you've met naïvety and don't comprehend at all."

Harry blurts out, insulted. "Excuse me, Zayn–"

"Let me finish. I'll let you have your words in." Zayn sighs in frustration, pulling his red beanie off. "We've been going steady for a while. Somehow, it's like you guys don't think that we aren't but if I haven't clued you guys in, we are." Zayn makes a face. "I know it's been some time since the banquet, but when I heard shit like you elbowing him on the lip, and purposefully spilling drinks over him, it was where I began to think different of you."

The pledges were standing by the archway, listening and not getting penalized for interrupting an official meeting.

"You guys started thinking different of me way before I've got the opportunity to do the same. At least I've got a valid reason to. He is from Kappa, and I suppose that's your valid reason to treat him ill. Except, none of you ever gave him a chance like Louis did with me."

Zayn ignores everyone's shuffling and staring. Mentioning Louis' name might not get him favours after this.

"My point in all of this isn't my relationship with Niall. It's your shit attitude towards Kappa, and how you've been treating me, then of course, dragging my little brother down with me because it seems as though you blame him more than me."

Zayn leans back against the arch frame, seeing how there's no seat offered to him or an actual place he could strongly put out his point.

"Let's start off with something simple—Kappa." Zayn gets a few faces when he mentions that name. Already, Zayn can tell how fucked everything is going to be after this. "Yeah, we got a feud going on—even though, no one has any idea why whatsoever. You can blame Louis when he left Rho and joined Kappa, but it existed long before and no one here actually knows why, do they?" 

Zayn could ask his dad, knowing it might have been in his time and dragged it towards their generation to keep up.

"They have been my company, when everyone felt the need not to be mine. And this is where I'm trying to get at: I do not know why we treat them like they're lower than us, when we've been acting way lower than they have." Zayn quirks an eyebrow. "This is your chance to speak."

Ironically, no one does. Not until Zayn quirks an eyebrow to test their patience.

"Because they _are_ lower." And it's funny that Jordan is speaking on behalf of what Harry actually needs to speak up on. Funny too, Jordan has a friend in Kappa. "Academically, philanthropic... The list will go on. Rho is higher in all compared to Kappa. They're like deadweight."

"In both ways, they are compared to us. Stop this competition and let's look at it this way. We could have helped them." Zayn exhales. "This could be fixed. This is something that we can help them out at. You act like Rho exists to be better than every other chapter here. No, let me wake you up again—we co-exist with the rest of those chapters. They are not deadweight. Do not ever refer to anyone as dead weight, Jordan."

Zayn ignores the disgusted reactions from the corner of his eyes, pushing himself off the frame before pacing closer to the room, going left and right with his arms crossed. Stern and confident, that's not all Zayn feels inside. A portrayal, and some type of diversion to throw them off of how it aches inside his chest to be doing this alone, against his brothers, and against an entire house. 

"Moving on, since no one has got anything to say—it's been brought to my attention that this meeting lacking pledges is due to my little brother Liam Payne's behaviour, activity, whatever you call it. Specifically, what has he done for the other pledges to be excluded?"

"His lack of work around here. Spends way too much time without his potential brothers, but he'll hang with Kappa." Ant offers his word, only for Zayn to make an unsatisfied face.

"Oh, it leads back to them, huh?" Zayn sighs. "If you are going to bring him down based on that term, you should write me up as well. From what I have seen, he has been doing his work, while keeping up with academics and his sociality. Argue if you must, but who does the records around here if not Harry or I?" Zayn trails his eyes on everyone until Harry. "Vouch for me, Harry—Liam has carried through his work, yes or no?"

"Liam has... Carried his part." Harry replies gutturally, not wanting Zayn to be right. 

"Then this discussion should not fall on your accord. Liam is out of this discussion. The pledges don't owe us shit. We owe it to them for being a part of Rho." Zayn turns his head away from Harry just as he looks away, inattentive. "If we want to blame anyone here, let's look at me. I must have done something wrong not to be involved with weekend plans and meetings. Tell me, I do not keep up with my work but I do finish what I've been given to do. I finish my things here and leave, that's about it. So why am I treated so differently?" Zayn raises an eyebrow before looking behind him then back towards the table. 

"Actually, don't give me an answer because I'm not expecting one from any one of you. Except Harry."

Harry's eyes flare bright with anger when he looks up at Zayn. He folds his hands over the table, slowly blinking his eyes open. "I think those affairs should be privately discussed, Zayn."

Suddenly, Zayn's leaning against the table between two members, glaring back at Harry. It's a stare-off between them no one wants to involve themselves in so everyone inches back from the direction of where Harry and Zayn are. Zayn is looming over the table, his elbows supporting him up and close to Harry. "Private discussions between you and me have left when you decided that it was alright to take whatever vendetta you have against me and take it out on Niall." His forefinger pressed accordingly on their table, mapping out all the things Harry has done. On each word, he pressed the table, cussing at Harry who wouldn't budge.

"What'd he do?" Eggsy whispered and Ant shrugged. Oh, he definitely knows.

"Harry, tell them why you thought hitting Niall hard on his lip that he started bleeding would be funny." Zayn pointed to Eggsy to speak on behalf of everybody. It seems like no one knows anything right now but the two of them. Ridiculous when Zayn hasn't heard anything from any of them. "Tell them why you're so against me. Tell them why you're so against Niall. Tell them what you've got to say about me when I'm gone that would turn everyone against me. Tell them, so I can vouch for my own dignity because no one's going to be doing it." Zayn side eyes the members on his right before staring back at Harry. "Tell them about what you've been doing for the past few months. Right here, right now."

Harry huffs, shaking his head. He closed his binder, standing up from his seat. His eyes are dark with his jaw clenched tight. He blinks slowly, intimidating everyone around him not to breathe or even think of moving. Except Zayn, who kept still and kept the eye contact between them unbroken. "This meeting is finished." He hits the gavel down.

But no one bothered to move at all. Not on Harry's dismissal or Zayn's stare.

Zayn begins to laugh, causing Harry to straighten his posture and hold his head up on Zayn. "I thought it was just the beginning."

"No, but you've started something else." Harry says sharply. "You are hereby suspended from Rho until the start of second semester where you will take back your title as vice president of Rho Epsilon, if the situation has not changed, if the committee has a unanimous decision to have you back."

"What the fuck?" A few of the lads exclaimed behind a few ooh's from the pledges. 

The news wasn't treading lightly as far as the whispers go. He could hear the support from the sidelines about it being a bad decision. As far as Zayn knows, all the questions are really all about Harry—the majority asking what did he do that was so major? Well, maybe stealing from the fraternity bank account, coercing, hazing that they agreed on not doing—the works.

"No—no, it's alright." Zayn says stern and stiff. "I'm fine with this actually. But you know who found out about this. You know that, and he hasn't told anyone. You better own up to it, persuade and beg Rho help you fix what you've caused. There's only so much a person can keep to themselves before they begin to think about taking Rho and its members down. And I'm not talking about him." 

It felt to Zayn that he was already suspended from before. That's how it has always felt and now it's actually true. So the announcement of his suspension doesn't feel new to him but somehow ordinary.

Zayn marches up to his room while the pledges part to make way for him, collecting a few things that he could carry in a duffel bag. There's a lot of things he could fit in, and he's trying his best that it all fits so he doesn't have to come back. 

A suspension is soft compared to an expulsion, a cotton bed compared to Harry's list of naughty things. The time is surely shorter and it's not forever. Nonetheless, Zayn has got no clue why Harry would suspend him just weeks before semester ends. It's all weighed the same, no matter how long forever or three months are. Zayn can eventually come back, and he will feel the difference in the house when he does.

Goodbyes aren't spent on everyone but Eggsy and the pledges. Even his room gets a goodbye—along with Orange who Jordan will look after. With everyone else, it felt like it didn't care.

It's a hello to Niall at Heis who stared at Zayn like he's never seen him before in his entire life, and right now is his first time, as if he's seen Zayn as a ghost.

When they walk back to Leigh's, no one dares themselves to say a word. Yet, Niall is daring not to let silence fill between them again.

"Um," Niall exhales. "What happened?"

"Just going to be sleeping over at Leigh's earlier than I thought." Zayn slips his beanie back on his head.

"How long?" Niall tries to firm his tone, tries not to let his voice worry so much when Zayn clearly isn't.

Zayn takes Niall's hand in his when he feels the urges of nicotine coming back. How he could just break his streak and light the one cigarette he keeps in his pocket in case of emergencies. Light up the end, and inhale it—easy as can be but easier said than done when he eases back to his surrounding. His fingers entangle with Niall's when it kicks him even worse. "I don't know." 

He figured that when he saw Zayn with a duffel bag, leaving from the house tense and angered with not intentions of looking back. "I don't think it's fair that you let them do this." Says Niall, trying to defend him. It's useless even if it does help. Rho would never listen to reason. "What did you say to them?"

"I don't think it matters, Niall. I have already said what I needed to. If it eases Harry to suspend me, then let him." Zayn blinks slowly, hiding his mouth behind the neck of his coat. "He'll be the one that looks guilty."

"I just don't think it's fair that this happened." Niall holds his nape with his free hand, nails digging on his neck. It's weird for Niall to even care so much of this situation that doesn't effect him at all. "You're incredibly smart, always thinking of and for the other people—why would they, is what I'm just trying to figure out."

"I called them out on everything. I called them out for mistreating Liam, I called them out for their slander against Kappa, I called them out for their immaturity, I called them out for the way they've been treating me, and I called them about something that happened a week ago." Zayn listed, knowing he has missed a lot more than those he said. Hearing it himself, he'd get mad too if he was called out for being wrong. "It's small but I knew Harry would tip."

"Did you wanna die?" Niall laughs breathily, trying to lift the tension off of Zayn who is carrying a whole ton of it with him. It causes him to crack a smile behind his coat and curl his lips back just in case Niall takes notice of is amusement. "What did you bring up?"

"Like I said, it's small—but it was when they elbowed your lip and tipped their drink over you." Zayn explains, words muffled and suppressed by his coat. "Like—yeah." No, it's not just like yeah. No one thought like yeah when Zayn brought it up.

Niall's fingers relaxed between Zayn's, and it's only a matter of seconds that they weren't holding hands anymore.

—

It eventually reached across campus—the rumours about Zayn being suspended from Rho. A lot of stories came around where he was suspended for breaking a rule within Rho, and that he accused the president of something false. Zayn can't even think about all the other ones because they're just as fake as the ones he hears most. No one knows the real story but Zayn and Harry. None of the boys truly know either. 

They have newspapers going around it as well. Zayn has never seen these pictures of him and they've managed to make it front cover. The only good thing to say is how good he looks in the candid shot.

Living with Leigh isn't as terrible as he thought. In the first place, he didn't think it would be until he felt how tense his muscles have become sleeping on the couch. And how little food there is because Leigh has this budget system she has newly begun to follow because of her sad bank account.

Liam hangs out with Zayn every other week, sometimes bringing more of Zayn's belongings to Leigh's house because he can't find himself to go back. To Zayn, it feels like he's just paying a debt for saving his ass from getting penalized by Rho. Surely, after spending more time with Rho than him, he'll find them more entertaining than Zayn.

As for Niall and Louis, it's best if they're not on speaking terms with all these rumours flying around about them as well.

Since he's been suspended, nothing has really been going well.

If it's not movies or food entertaining him, it's Zayn at the orphanage. It wasn't supposed to be a regular thing coming there. The one time he came was to drop off a picture they ordered for the main hall. The second time was to keep his promise to a 6-year old girl. She wanted to learn how to paint so he taught her the basics of water colour. Then there happened to be a third, a fourth, a fifth, a sixth time he came back to hang out with the other kids. Six and continuing. 

Zayn didn't stay because of pity. The kids were intelligent and mindful, much better than people Zayn knew. He stayed because they coped with something Zayn had no idea how to deal with that just has to be happening so many times which he didn't expect in his life.

He spends most of his time in the studio, not expecting much but projects to finish for the customers. No one visits him, not even Niall anymore. It's the most private place Zayn can think, and not even Niall would risk it. It would be much worse in his head if he remembers Niall's only staying away because they're not supposed to associate because of the rumours flying by between the two chapters.

That one day Zayn came to the studio—all of his work was gone. He didn't bother going back after the people told him they can't do anything about it. He had things to finish and show to the orphanage. Not to mention, paintings he was going to give out to them. The one he gave was before the rest of them were stolen. And he felt hopeless afterwards.

It's mid-week, and it's snowing again. The charity auction would be happening soon. That meant the chapters were to stay back on campus instead of the others who are freely able to leave. The holidays started early, especially for Leigh who has gone back to London and left Zayn to burrow in her apartment. She calls from time to time, skyping as well. When the light disappears from his macbook, Zayn is back realizing he's alone.

**Niall Horan:** _Hi (:_

Zayn scoffs at Niall's text, putting his phone down where he wouldn't look at it through the rest of the night.

He watches movies to pass time. He took it upon himself to watch horror films alone in the dark. It's the only fun he gets, then he realizes when he goes to sleep that it was a bad idea.

He's been regularly getting texts from Niall now since things have died down, and most he ignores. By most, he means all. He wasn't feeling up to face anyone.

He visits the grocery store, owing it to Leigh to stock up her cabinets and fridge since he's been staying over, not really doing anything take space on her couch.

There's not much to get because Zayn doesn't cook. From scratch at least. Like dinner meals, he'll get the preserved pasta in packages and cook it following directions by adding only butter or milk. The only meal he cooks is breakfast, and it's not much but eggs and sausages and hashbrowns.

He's contemplating whether he'd drink orange juice or chocolate milk. Two minutes of internal conflict, he decides to go with the chocolate milk and fetch a bottle of rum as well. This is his way of getting festive.

He doesn't think of going home to his family in L.A. for Christmas, though he should. It's bitter at home but there's no difference than what Zayn's feeling now.

His phone starts to vibrate as he holds a bag of his groceries. He doesn't register to whom he's picked up, and opens with a, "Hello?"

"Hey Zayn, it's me, Louis."

"Oh, hi." His tone drops.

"You seem very excited." That was a very sarcastic answer back.

"I just didn't expect you to call." Zayn decides with the chocolate milk. No one can ever beat the goodness of chocolate milk.

"I know. Do you want to hang?"

"No offence, but I'm not looking forward to doing anything with anyone. I'm awfully busy and I'm trying not to add more stress."

"Hello, Mr. Grinch," Louis starts to sing. "It's the holidays if you haven't figured that out."

"I have. I'm just busy."

"I really shouldn't say anything, but Niall's throwing something for you tonight." Says Louis. "It's insanely big, you should come."

"Come where? Why should I go anywhere? It's fucking freezing out and I told you, I have no intentions of doing anything." Zayn scoffs, side eyeing the milk aisle. "I'm here for the school auction. Nothing else. As soon as my part is finished, I'm leaving."

"Leaving to where?"

"Back to Bel Air for Christmas" Zayn scoffs.

"Zayn, come for tonight. If tonight sucks, then you can go."

"Lots of things have been happening lately," Zayn explains. "My paintings were stolen, I haven't heard from anyone in such a long while. I'm really not used to being alone, Louis. I don't know what I've been doing lately, but I know if I go to whatever you guys are holding tonight—I'll prefer having no company at all which is what I have."

"We're sorry. You have to understand, we just couldn't keep in tabs because of Kappa and Rho's situation."

"I know. But, it's like this. I'm not welcome to Rho anymore. And I needed you guys when that happened. Instead, everyone left. What was I supposed to do?" Zayn sighs. "Well, I sucked it up and did my own things. I did things that made it okay for me to be alone. Then I had that taken away. I worked hard on paintings that I didn't even know I could do." Zayn takes another exhales. "Niall kept low, you kept low, Liam kept low when I needed everything to be high as fuck."

"I'm sorry, Zayn. That's really all I can say. I don't have anything."

"Tell Niall, I'm really sorry I can't come tonight. And that things turn out good."

"Alright. I guess I can't force you out. I'm just sorry I haven't been there." Louis mutters. "Just remember, we're here if you need us."

"Yeah, okay—I'll see you some other time."

Zayn was allowed to sleep on Leigh's bed, as long as he changes the sheets when she comes back. So he found himself buried under a blanket, hating how weak he's been feeling. Can't save his own life to pick himself up and stretch at least.

—

By the time the auction came rolling im, Zayn had no clue what the hell they were supposed to wear anyway. He wasn't going up with Rho when the auctions are taking place. That's the part of suspension. The only thing he's supposed to do is look pretty for Rho because there's no other choice, he really does still represent them.

It sucks even more that his family will be coming to watch—all sorts of families. They were expecting him to be up and standing but that's not going to happen at all. After that, he'll be going home with them for the holidays.

He's wearing a white Valentino button down collar shirt with three quarter sleeves rolled up just around his elbows, nothing authentic. Just something he quickly chose when he was leaving the house. If anyone says it isn't formal, they can tell it to Valentino.

When he got to the hall where the auction was, nothing made him more sicker than seeing everyone altogether. Then he remembers that his family is coming, and he rushed right into the washroom. He splashes cold water on his face, hoping things would be better. And it's not.

He hung around backstage, sitting on top of black containers that must've held the wires and microphones inside. He was shielded by curtains so no one could see him. Greeting the fraternities and sororities, other academic departments, and schools here was one thing Zayn kept away from, still thinking about his suspension from Rho. He could see them through the slits of the curtains, wearing all black—completely different from what Zayn is wearing. He took a deep breath, slumped against the wall, lolling his head back against the surface.

"Hey." Niall calls out of nowhere.

"W-what are you doing here?" Zayn pushes himself off the box, straightening his shirt. He hasn't flustered seeing Niall for so long, and he feels like a 12-year old who's too scared to meet their crush under a tree after school.

"For the auction. Just like everybody else." Niall starts to fiddle with his phone.

"I mean here." He gestures at the spot he's standing over. Behind the curtains, Zayn means.

"Hawk eyes—saw you from a mile away." Niall laughs, fading to a quiet tone. "I've missed you."

"Oh, yeah, same." Zayn gives a soft smile before he's back to a plain face again. Along with Niall who's face has become wan.

"Can I sit back here with you?" Niall's face lightens up, eyes gleaming bright. "I pre-drank a bit too fast."

"Yeah, of course." Zayn can't say no. If he says no, he knows he will regret it later. And it won't hurt if there's company he's been looking forward too.

He's barely sitting on the seat when Niall lifts himself to sit on top of the box. For a box so small, Zayn sure has distanced himself from Niall. There's a few inches gaping between them the both of them were aware of. Zayn sat as if he would while Niall sat lolling back against the wall.

This time Niall didn't dare himself to break the silence. He kept quiet and composed, keeping his observations of Zayn's features to himself. He had no choice but to look ahead, and Zayn had no choice as well. Looking back wasn't, and Niall was a choice he was given to have, but he avoided the thought of meeting his eyes and went with what was being offered. 

"I think I'm going to go home." Zayn huffs, scooting off the corner of the box until he was standing. "Not feeling too well."

"Fever?" Niall postures himself up, rubbing Zayn's nape with his fingertips.

"I'm fine. It's not a big deal," Zayn shakes his head. "It's something I have to deal with on my own."

"You're not dealing with anything by yourself. I am here, Zayn. We could talk if you like." Niall's arm hangs over Zayn's chest when Niall places his hand over his hand holding Zayn's neck.

"It's honestly not a big deal, Niall." He turns his head away, completely keeping Niall out of his sight. He watches the people hanging around by the door, talking about technicalities and the order of the chapters going up and whether they're going to play the chapter's video first or last.

"It's a goddamn big deal when you've been avoidin' me this whole time." Niall scoffs, insulted by Zayn looking away from him. His arms go back to him, and his hands are in his lap, fiddling remorsefully. "You were supposed to come yesterday. I had this thing planned for you and everybody was waiting for you."

"Who's everybody?" Zayn exclaims, combing his hair back. Backing away from Niall, a hand on his hip while his other hand stays pressed against his temple, his eyes stay shut, meditating in his head that he doesn't get angry tonight on a special occasion. He doesn't want to ruin another thing. "I haven't talked to anyone in so long, and you say everybody?"

"I tried to! You never texted me back at all." Niall sighs sharply, eyes wide as his chest drops and his arm stretched out to Zayn like it's his fault. But more like, he never meant to disappoint Zayn.

"Yeah, when everything fucking died down! Rho suspended me, Niall. That was my family, and I needed someone there with me when they left." His voice cracks midway, both his arms drop to his side. "No one came over. No one asked me how I was doing. I didn't need texts. I didn't know what to do. I haven't been alone since high school. It's not something I enjoy looking back to. I just needed someone, and I'm not someone who knows that they do and ask." He shrugs for a long time, and lets his shoulders and hands drop when he finally turns his head to the side—pausing to take a look at the stage before turning completely to Niall, eyebrows furrowed in with a faint frown on his face.

"I'm so sorry, Zayn. I didn't know." Niall charges towards Zayn, wrapping his arms around him—held him like never before, and buried his face in the crook of his neck like he has never been close to him before. Niall repeats 'I'm sorry, I'm sorry' over and over again, babbling and stammering. He's never seen him like this before—it's almost frightening.

Zayn's arms makes it way around Niall's back, melting into the heat he's missed. Like always, he hooks his chin over his shoulder, and tightens his grip around Niall. "I didn't know, Zayn. I swear I didn't know. I-I stayed away because I was told to, but I like you so much. I hope you know. I would never ignore you again like that. I'd beat myself up if I lost you again."

"I told you I'm fine." Zayn grumbles semi-contently. "It was just hard, yeah? I can't cope having no one there for me. I thought of you the whole time, but it didn't work if you weren't actually with me. And everyone was busy, so that made it worse."

"Were you close to—" Niall asks softly, just out of curiosity. But Zayn knew it wasn't something he wants to know just because he hears the guilt and blame in Niall's voice, shaking his head and hugs even tighter before.

"No, no way." He exhales, then he thinks about his paintings and projects which makes him sulk in Niall's arms. "But when someone stole my paintings and drawings and all, that tipped me over."

"They're back safe if you it makes you feel better." Niall quirks his lip up into an apologetic grin before Zayn pulls away, blinking his eyes wide open.

"You _stole_ my shit?"

"It's legitimately borrowed." Niall shrugs, just as he looks out at the crowd. Everyone is starting to sit and he's just noticed the MC with the microphone walking past them to the stage. "I think we have to sit down." Niall brushes past Zayn as they exit the stage door.

"No! You stole my paintings for what?" Zayn pushes for an answer, trying to force himself in front of Niall while they walk through the corridor. Many of the people were still chatting so they couldn't be so late like them.

They're really in depth with their conversation that it wouldn't hurt to talk at least two minutes about the paintings which Niall took. God, he's the last person to cause him such grief and anxiety. 

Reaching for the door handle, Zayn puts a hand over before Niall could. His eyes are wide and questioning Zayn more than his slacked mouth could say.

"Zayn, what are you doin'?" Niall's exclaim pushes out with a hint of severity when Zayn holds his wrist firm as possible. Zayn ignores the tone as best as possible, hating the fact Niall isn't impressed. He stole his paintings for fuck sakes. Zayn wants answers.

His grip is tight when he leads Niall away from the door into the hall and into the main foyer where the other corridor is which is where the washrooms are. The whole place is elegant—mock Renaissance paintings hanging above on the wall, gold moulding, burgundy red carpeting which feels thick like Persian carpets under their feet. The window is wide with a creamy white colour cotton and silk designed bench where curtains are white with gold and bronze fringes. Fancy as fuck, enough that Zayn gets distracted and nearly misses the men's washroom.

Shit, the washroom even has a fainting chair and the walls are cream and the flooring is marble, and very glossy. It's like they incorporated the Versailles palace design in this hotel.

"They were starting!" Niall gestures fervently to the direction of the hall. They could hear the MC introducing the crowd to what the night is about, and what the fundraiser is about. It's an annual event that Zayn practically knows the order of when the important things are going to happen. The first thirty minutes isn't anything to worry about.

"What about my paintings?" Zayn leans the back of his hip on the counter, his hands holding his arms up. He looks up to the ceiling, noticing how high the lights are. "What did you do with them?" He blinks from the ceiling and tilting his chin down when he stares at Niall—unamused by Zayn's style of confrontational.

"Let's talk later." Niall huffs frustratingly, Zayn's expression not changing; still stern. "You look really good, by the way!" He exclaims the compliment to Zayn, hostile and brash as he juts his chin towards Zayn.

"Well, thanks!" Zayn scoffs, returning the same tone. "You're not bad yourself!"

Niall nods sternly, curving his lips to hide the laughter that's soon to come out if he doesn't do anything to stop it. "Y-yeah... Like... Really good!"

Zayn breaks his character by snorting quietly which leads to a husky laughter. Niall laughs breathily with Zayn—the two knowing this has nothing to do with the paintings Niall has taken as much. Zayn beckons to Niall with his forefinger by his waist. At first he didn't think Niall saw him motioning for him until he took just a few steps towards him and felt his breath on his skin and became trapped between Niall's arms holding his body up by his hands holding the edge of the counter, nearing Zayn's hip by a few inches.

"You shaved?" Zayn grimaces when he takes a good whiff of Niall, and swallows the smell of his aftershave down. It's fresh, sharp, and awakening, and Zayn just wants kiss his neck as his excuse to just smell him all night. Weird, but he just smells so good to Zayn that exhales how refreshing it is to smell something so cool. It feels liberating, odd enough.

"No, you know that. I really don't know where my special cologne went, so— " Niall's head shrugs along with his shoulders, then looks down, scanning Zayn's torso. Then his fingers caress against his collarbone over his shirt, trailing down his sternum, and Zayn tilts his head when he looks down at what Niall's trying to do.

He did his button wrongs. Dumbass he really is. And he doesn't mind when Niall's concentrated on unbuttoning his dress shirt. He really doesn't mind at all.

"I'm guessing you were in a rush." His eyebrows are furrowed in when he tugs Zayn's shirt out of his pants. He seems more concerned than his clothes than the fact that they could this into the stall and make something out of it after so many weeks of not having any contact. 

"I apparently can't dress myself." Zayn raises his head high after Niall finished fixing his buttons—leaving three buttons open to expose the tattoo just below his collarbone, and fixes his collar. Zayn swallows when his fingers brush against the adam's apple bone of his neck.

Niall pulls Zayn off the counter by the loop of his belt. Zayn's breathing heavies when Niall unbuttons his pants. He tries not to think about Niall sexually, and tries turning himself off to the way Niall lets his pants sag to the edge of his collar shirt, Niall being able to see the edging of his briefs. He keeps his head up, ignoring Niall's hands shifting about in his pants, tucking his white shirt in carefully. Zayn's heart is racing like the Derby, feeling the bass of his heart thump against Niall's chest. This whole dressing up shouldn't be affecting Zayn anyhow. This was nothing. Then he realizes when Niall's hand tucks his shirt from the back, kneading the curve of where his bum begins in the process, that it's the whole idea of getting help and being taken care of he likes. Likes when people do things to him and he's got nothing to stop them. And the repayment—oh my god.

Explains why he likes being the person people toy most with in sex, why he's usually the one being fucked, why he was the middle in that threesome he vividly remembers doing when it was his exploration time.

Niall zips and buttons his pants back together before pushing Zayn's hip back on the counter of the sink with his hips, and Zayn's is trying really hard not to get any stiffer than how he is now.

"I don't wanna go." Niall grumbles softly, resting his elbow on Zayn's shoulder as he combs back Zayn's hair. And it's an instinct when Zayn holds Niall's waist.

"Don't really have to." Zayn's head lulls back, closing his eyes to Niall's fingers tugging through his hair.

Niall had accidentally let out a whimper in the back of his throat he wasn't supposed to let Zayn hear. His head orients back to looks at Niall straight ahead who's cheeks are flushed pink in embarrassment and slowly breathing.

"So tell me about my paintings again?" Zayn has a coy smirk on his face and Niall shakes his head.

"No, don't do that to me now." Niall whispers, his lips barely touching Zayn's. His lips part when he feels the half-chapped skin of Zayn's lips and notices Zayn parting with him, and tilts his head when he pushes their mouths together. He doesn't remember how full Zayn's bottom lip feels until he takes it between his a few times, nipping and sucking. His arms embrace around Zayn's neck, hiding their faces together, and hiding the fact that Niall's trying to feel every bit of Zayn's tongue licking in his mouth.

He takes a sharp inhale before pushing their mouths together even tighter with Niall's arm squeezing tighter that no one would be able to see how licentious their first kiss is after a few weeks of having no contact at all. Zayn tilts his head the opposite way of Niall, still keeping their lips together as his arms embrace Niall's back.

"Oh fuck." Niall moans, and so does Zayn but quieter when Niall's phone vibrates over their thighs, close to their dicks.

His arms loosen around Zayn's neck when he pulls his phone out, giving Zayn room to mouth at his earlobe before he sucks under the curve of his jaw. Niall continues to moan, trying to quiet it as possible as if his fraternity brother who's asking where he is through text would be able to hear him. He rereads the text over Zayn's shoulder a few times, again and again, planning to reply each time, but gets lost to Zayn grunting in his kisses. He can see from the mirror how Zayn's moving his head with his kisses, and how lewdly twisted his expression is right now. He feels like a slut watching himself from the mirror being suck and kissed, not doing anything but make faces like he's about to lose it and he's really close. So is Zayn.

"What's it say?" Zayn breathes, then drags his teeth on Niall's skin.

"Where are you." Niall exhales, digging his phone back in his pocket, continues watching their reflection over Zayn's shoulder. 

"Tell them—" Zayn takes a breather, grinds his hip against Niall who's pushing back. His hand combs through Niall's gelled hair, dishevelling his hair, hoping no one notices later on. "You'll be coming in five minutes."

And somewhere in Zayn's tone, does Niall actually believe him. His mouth opens more when his dick starts to throb, aching to be touched by an actual grip that's not his own.

"Doesn't matter. I'll come when I want." Niall gives a wet, sloppy mouthing just under Zayn's ear.

"I hope not." Zayn's head arches back, holding Niall's head against his neck. Then he looks at the entrance suspiciously, wondering if a person would be coming in any moment, but he has no drive to stop everything and act like nothing never happened. He continues to look at it, and eventually Niall looks at what he's trained on. He acts way faster than Zayn, pulling himself off him but takes his wrist and pulls him into a stall.

A stall isn't exactly a word for it when it's a whole entire cubicle wall that separates each toilet. It's large enough the two of them are able to move around, and it's very secluded as well. The door is like a real door, enclosing the stall completely so no one has to worry about peep holes, people watching between the cracks, and broken locks. Not to mention they don't have to worry about people figuring out that there's the two of them in there.

Despite dressing Zayn up properly, Niall unbuttons Zayn's pants, quickly tucking his hands inside his boxers to fist Zayn's dick as he pushes him towards the wall. It's already wet and stiff half-way, and Zayn is groaning with his eyes closed. He's thrusting his dick into Niall's fist as he twists his down Zayn's shaft. It's hot all of the sudden – his face, his back, his breath which hitches in his throat when Niall squeezes up his shaft.

Niall begins to undo his own pants while Zayn lowers his pants and boxers below his hip, his dick springing out with Niall's before they're grinding them together while their mouths are back against each others. 

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Niall exhales languidly.

Before he registers what is going on, Zayn's on his knees with his mouth wrapped around Niall's dick, slowly bobbing his head already.

"You look good from 'ere." Niall moans, trying to keep his stance against the wall. He feels like he's about to melt and fall with Zayn's tongue lapping his head, then flickering at the tip as Zayn fists his own dick as well. He's very focused in both, something Niall's not really seen before but he's really lost at words when he watches Zayn using both hands. Then there's his mouth Niall just—

"Fuuuck." Niall groans deeper than whatever Zayn has heard before. The tone didn't sound like him. It was too deep and hoarse and unrecognizable to him until he's looking up at Niall and it's making sense. 

"So you are coming in five minutes." Zayn hints with his tone, and it's rough from all the sucking he's been doing.

"No." Niall shakes his head with a lewd smirk on his face when he looks down on Zayn stroking his own dick and his. His eyes are languid and heavy, and it makes him look cocky to Zayn who accidentally whines in his throat. "I wanna enjoy this. C'mere,"

So Zayn stands, getting a wet kiss from Niall who tastes his thick juices mixed with Zayn's saliva.

They kiss and stroke each other off. Zayn couldn't even do his buttons properly tonight, so how would he fix himself after if he got all his clothes off.

Zayn grunts to Niall's flicking wrist, and everything stops when they hear the door swing open and someone walks in whistling a happy tune.

Zayn rolls his eyes, annoyed by the sound of this person pissing in the urinal and Niall shoots a look if he's supposed to keep going or not. He hasn't completely stopped but it felt like it to Zayn compared to how fast his hand was going before.

Zayn needs him to, because he wasn't going to hold on for so long and he just really wants to come so Niall can and he'd be able to feel how hot is cum would be and—Zayn let's a moan out, not one planned to coax Niall to come out, and Niall's eyes are wide and worried but he wants to laugh at the same time. Zayn shouldn't really be imagining things right now.

Niall starts thrusting his dick again in his fist and Zayn is biting on his neck so he wouldn't make anymore noises that would make the man peeing—mistake; he's taking a shit—which is better in this situation.

He shudders out a hot burst of air,  and presses harder on Niall.  He's oh so very close. And watching Zayn biting down his moaning and groaning gives Niall the idea to let Zayn suck on his fingers, hoping he doesn't bite them off.

Niall's mouth is watering as Zayn sucks and licks his fingers, imagining how it'd feel on his dick again. Zayn's face is red and sweaty, burning because he can't keep it down like this. He's trembly breathing with Niall's fingers in his mouth, trying his best not to be any louder because the man is still in here, pissing like he's drank a two litre bottle of water.

And it's amazing as Zayn comes, he moans with the urinal flushing so he's unsure if the man heard him to his fullest extent. He catches his breath when the water from the sink rushes. He lets a deep breath out—sounding more like a shudder, expecting the dryer to blow. Except, he remembers the bowl of towels at the side of the sink and the towel hamper.

He hears the door swing again and his breath blows out like a heavy wind, and Niall comes a few seconds later, whimpering quietly. Niall pushes their mouths together, his hand sliding lower than the base of his back, and even lower than the curve of where Zayn's bum starts, his fingers massage over his cladded entrance

Niall helps Zayn get dressed again, doing the tucking of his shirt and Zayn helps Niall get his hair back in order with water, like they didn't just jerk each other out right now. They still look like hell, despite how well they're wearing their clothes again. Niall's face is flushed like it's the arctic tundra outside, Zayn's face is glistening even though he's washed his face, Niall's lips are fuller and pink, there's a hair strand that keeps hanging off Zayn's face even though he pushes his hair back. His hair shouldn't even be doing—it always hold back since it's thick. Even worse, their pupils are blown out big and they smell like sex.

Niall goes in the hall first, then Zayn follows, able to see the concern from Kappa when Niall finally sits down with them. He sees them laughing and making faces like Niall's going to be in big trouble. But Niall hushes them and points to the stage where the engineering department is having their bidding session. They made some type of couch that Zayn isn't really interested in, so he finds the table where his family is sitting at.

He joins them, getting a very happy greeting from his mother, a dull one from his father, then a glare from his sister who knows why his brother looks terrible right now. No, not terrible sick. Terribly tired.

"We were wondering where you were." His mother says cheery, and everyone begins to clap when the couch sold for $300—designed by the students from interior design.

"Why aren't you sitting with Rho?" His sister asks, still suspicious of Zayn's unkept appearance.

"I'm suspended?" He shrugs, and his father shifts uncomfortably in his seat.

"Oh no!" His sister suddenly forgets Zayn's predicament and looks at Rho's table who seem to be disinterested in the next item up for bidding: a table made out of car scrap.

"It's fine, don't worry." Zayn dismisses Waliyha's concern, and focuses of the bidding. The table isn't that bad at all. It's the creativity that counts. The members of Zayn's university stand when the bidding finishes with $60 for a cookbook of endless recipes created by the health and wellness committee, meaning Rho will be up soon with his Iron Man that he made.

"Oops." Zayn hears his father blurt out. "I took the washroom's towel by accident."

"Huh?" Zayn's eyes widen, and his father gives him a funny look, not expecting Zayn to care.

"I forgot to drop off the towel in the washroom because I was in a rush to get out." His father winces at him. He really doesn't expect concern from Zayn over a little towel.

"Why's that?" Waliyha asks.

"Public disturbance." He replies and Zayn's eyes look to the side before he swallows and nods to his father.

Oh fuck.

Zayn claps enthusiastically and falters when Rho appears on stage with said Iron Man that they created. Twenty four members with pledges included, Zayn counts. He can't even count himself in anymore. His frown is slight but noticeable by his sister who keeps quiet.

It sucks because Zayn knows everyone up there and it feels so strange to be seeing them so far, as if he's a bidder as well. No—he full out created that thing with Ant's help with the light.

_R u ok?_ Niall's name flashes on his screen.

_Yes, i'm fine_ , Zayn sends back after listening to some offers for Iron Man. It's getting such a good reaction, and it makes Zayn queasy that he looks at his father for the cloth he can take back to the washroom.

Waliyha is in awe in her seat, along with his parents who have even offered a bid of $290 for Iron Man. Zayn sinks in his seat when Rho looks towards his table, as if he's plotted to take back Iron Man. And no shit, it's Harry who keeps staring at their table. But they're not the only one who wants the actual size action figure.

"$300 to that lady with the pretty blue dress! Can I hear—oh! $310 to my friend on the left—$320! $33—$340! Ladies and gentleman, we have really got our hand in something special!"

Zayn rolls his eyes, wishing Niall was here sitting with him so he could hold his hand. The cigarette fix is kicking him again.

He snaps back to the stage when everyone starts to clap again. "... And sold! For $400 dollars!"

"Wow!" Waliyha gasps. "That's higher than anybody else. Who thought of that, Zayn?"

He shrugs his reply, clapping with the crowd when Kappa gets on stage. He feels relieved when Niall looks normal again, smiling and standing proud with his brothers. Him and Louis have the mic, and everyone's muttering to what Kappa is up to having nothing presented up on stage.

"I know Rho has worked really hard on the real life model of Iron Man, so let's commend them to a job well done." Zayn snickers when he sees Louis side eyeing his comment. He looks at Niall who puts the mic up to his mouth, and Zayn is wondering how Kappa is going to propose their service.

"A job well done, Louis?" Niall turns to Louis who makes a face, nodding feverishly.

"Yes, Niall, a job well done." Louis grits his teeth through his grin. Rho is standing off to the side, and just like everybody else – is wondering what they're up to. 

"What do y'mean?" Niall shrugs, asking sarcastically like it's a talent show they're MC's of. "That was amazing! The amount of time Rho put into such a project, and the ideas to make it happen—I saw all of that and I just wanna say what a great job Zayn Malik has done to show us somethin' amazing like that."

Zayn freezes in his seat, too afraid to see the eyes that will be searching for him. He doesn't even bother to look up to his family who's clapping along with the rest of the people, smiling like he's done them proud. Zayn doesn't want to brag but to hell they should be. He gives a little wave when the light goes to him, staying stiff until it disappears back to Kappa.

No one was clapping because of how amazing it really was, Zayn knows that. Seeing the table made out of car scrap by the art department, he realizes his Iron Man isn't the best to be auctioned but it's the way everyone's figured out who the real coordinator of that was. It was left out when Harry spoke about it.

"Thank you, Zayn!" Louis waves and Niall's mic is finally down. "So Kappa doesn't really have anything to contribute artistically or creatively, so we have decided as a family, that we will auction ourselves and work to change the community through labour."

Zayn thinks it's a good idea, considering how shit the maintenance is around the community. Everyone knows this community has got problems, like a missing block of the sidewalk, potholes, broken playgrounds, an abandoned garden they could start up again. There are many things in need around here none of the bidders really focus on.

Really, it's nice that they bid nearly a thousand dollars american for sculptures and furniture, but it's really not much to help if no one knows where the money is going. And the chapters are always around the community, so if anyone wants change to actually happen, bidding for Kappa is a good way to go. If there's none and people have bid high money for change, everyone can just march to their house. Everyone wins.

Shit, Zayn wishes he didn't tell Niall that idea now.

But the bidding goes, going up to $90, $100, and counting.

"Dad, I think you should bid at least enough that Kappa's able to start something here." He says, listening to the bidding with half of his sense. "I don't think these people would bid high enough for Kappa to do anything. Shit is expensive. They won't get anywhere with $100."

"Why should I?" His face twists. Easily, he can. He's rich, but he won't—not easily for Kappa unless there's a very good reason.

"They're the only ones who actually understand the idea of this whole charity, really." Zayn scoffs. "Rho owns $400 now because they sold Iron Man, and what does that contribute to? Rho will keep that money, and give out about %60 of money gained to a charity. The whole point is giving to those who don't have. If you actually give a damn about changing this place, then you need to outbid everyone right now."

His father rolls his eyes, shaking his head before, "Five thousand!" Is escaping his mouth with the whole entire hall gasping and exclaiming before the hammer is breaking the bidding. As if anyone would go higher that his father. It'd be stupid for anyone to. Even his father could go higher.

"I do really need to talk to you about why you got suspended from Rho." His dad shakes his head when he claps for Kappa.

Zayn has never in a long time spoke to his dad about anything. It's fraternity related but it's a start.

"I went against Rho. I went against everything and everyone who affiliates with that name." Zayn mutters, playing with his fingers. "Family doesn't mean anything to them. It's just the competition between Kappa that keeps them driven and nothing else."

"Why do you favour Kappa all of the sudden?"

"I don't favour Kappa over Rho. I favour Kappa's principles over Rho's because they lost it." Zayn huffs. "Or maybe, I've gained new principles that seem to be ill to Rho." He takes another pause. "I made a friend with somebody in Kappa. I see both sides, and I learned not to favour a side. I learned that things aren't fair once I see how a side is affected by the other. Rho isn't affected at all. They can care less about anything. They only pose as a threat because they make them to be by making them seem ignorant and stupid. You saw what they proposed up there. Agree, it's far smarter than what any of us have brought."

His dad nods, playfully punching Zayn on the shoulder. Well, that is weird. "You make a great leader."

"So, are you mad?" Zayn asks, even though he's sure he's not. He just wants to keep this going.

"Yeah, you let them suspend you." He shrugs, holding a finger up to this group of old men waiting for him. "If I'm being honest, I do like your Iron Man thing. Give this to Kappa." He hands Zayn a cheque, who's confused all of the sudden. Those were unrelated statements in less than 5 seconds.

"Thanks." Zayn grins, throwing an arm around his dad, returning the favour before meeting the group of people waiting to speak to him.

Zayn still feels fuzzy to his senses, not really entirely sure of everything right now. He goes back into the hall, looking for Louis and Kappa who seem to be absent from the table. He arrives back stage and to his surprise which shouldn't be, so is Rho. The two are in a full blown argument Zayn can't comprehend yet. Harry's cussing, Louis' telling him to shut up, Ant is yelling "I made it too," and it's all making sense.

"Stop disturbing everyone!" Zayn exclaims. "You guys are wasting your time."

"If Niall didn't pull that stunt for you, we wouldn't be here!" Harry glares at Zayn who's scowling. "What were you trying to do, prove a point? Make us look like idiots out there?"

"What Niall did out there, I didn't have anything to do." He points to himself. "But I don't like how you're accusing me of all these things, making everyone think that I'm out to get you guys. I don't give a fuck what you guys do, I just want me out of it."

"Then get out of here."

"Wasn't planning on staying here, actually." Zayn sighs. "Where's..."

"Went to talk to this other group. Networking stuff." Louis grins tautly, feeling out of place with everyone listening on their conversation.

Zayn starts to leave but feels the rustle of the cheque between his fingers. "Before I forget, my dad says congratulations and to do good."

"We'll do better than good." Louis waves the cheque before Zayn disappeared back into the corridor.

Zayn makes a face when the other groups of the university begin to cheer, whooping Bio Geeks. They're all wearing the same outfit. Zayn thinks they all went shopping on the same day because the black vest couldn't be anymore similar than the next ones he keeps seeing from them.

He sits with his sister for awhile, talking about things that doesn't relate to tonight. Besides their mom, she could possibly be the only person who doesn't give a shit about this night. Everyone else affiliates with the fraternities and sororities because of family, network and communications, and  important people who make this all happen. They're here without a choice, and Zayn pities them just a bit.

"Do you want go to Miami?" Zayn nudges Waliyha with his hand, pulling her attention away from Rho, understanding why she's so occupied.

"Yeah!"

"Do you have money for a ticket? Because I'm not..." Zayn's voce falters as he shrugs. He tries not to laugh at his sister giving him a dumbfound look.

"No! You know that! Why would you ask!"

"I guess you can't come." Zayn shakes his head, sympathetically and mockingly.

"When are you going?"

"I was kidding." Zayn laughs. "I wanted to be away for Christmas but I'm missing home all of the sudden."

"You should be home. Mom and dad are going to be around. Actually."

Zayn sighs softly, knowing that really means. It's not the first time they told Waliyha and Zayn that they'll be home for the holidays. They're not even able to make a promise because they all know it's going to break.

They've spent Christmas at their grandparents' house for three years now. No parents, just their dad's parents and them. He's not complaining about spending three consecutive years with them now, but he'd love it if they were here to spend it as well and not in New York where they're working or spending Christmas with other people. It's not even for his sake at all. It's Waliyha's.

"Is he coming?"

Zayn quirks his eyebrows, hearing the exaggerated tone from he. "Him? No. No way." Zayn grimaces. He's aware she means Niall. He told her about him twice over iMessage. Zayn didn't think Waliyha would hold this against him. "He's got his own family to go home to, weirdo."

"How come he gave you a shout out, saying you did the Iron Man?"

"That's because I did. He was there some of the days I was working on it. We were partners for our Psychology midterm so we worked in my studio while I had to get Iron Man finished."

"No one helped you? What the fuck?"

"Nope!"

"He's nice."

"Yup."

"Do you know if you love him or not?"

Zayn's eyes grew wide. "I don't know. Why are you asking?"

"Just wondering. Generally, I wanna know when a person starts to love a person." She huffs. "'Cause my friend is dating this girl, and like I think he loves her but I don't think she likes him the same, and he's really nice to her like, very nice, but I don't think she loves him back. And it's funny because he's the one who's really affectionate and it should be him who shouldn't really care because doing something is really easy. It's the reaction that's not, so she should be the one who's supposed to love him because of the affection and it's really switched up."

"Love is weird, Waliyha. Maybe she's not ready because it's not always about the good things like hugs and kisses. She might not be mature enough like he is. Maybe they don't talk enough for them to click tight." Zayn sighs, wondering why such a topic is being revolved around them. "Like it depends on the factors, like humour or attractiveness that strengthen someone's feelings for someone. It's not usually the hugs or kisses ever. Anyone can do those things."

Waliyha sneers at Niall as he walks around the tables to meet with Kappa. "I think he's good with you."

"How do you—"

"Compared to Harry and that Alex—"

"Wait, you think me and Harry were—no way."

"It doesn't matter anyways." Waliyha flips her hair, before stifling a laugh. "He's coming."

Zayn snorts, then it turns to a full blown out laugh Niall snickers curiously at.

It takes a while for him to settle before greeting them with, "Sup?" 

"Hey, this is Waliyha, the skunk that lives in my house." Zayn points his thumb at his sister. 

"Huh?" Waliyha asks very high pitched in question, exaggerating the word when she glares at Zayn. Niall shakes her hand, shares his name all in two seconds.

"Congratulations on your very vague pitch, in which, I had to elaborate to my dad so he'd bid." Zayn's shoulders lift casually before dropping them, grinning tautly as Niall chuckles.

"Oh anytime!" Niall leaning against Zayn's seat, pats his shoulder.

"And thanks for that – opening?" Zayn looks up if Niall would correct him, then finds himself just staring. "Got Kappa in trouble with Rho but, all is well."

"Stir shit up—that's my job." Niall nods proudly, settling his sight on Waliyha who stares unimpressed. "How's school?"

"I just learned my ABC's." Waliyha smiles.

"I'm proud of you." Niall swings his arm in a too-friendly manner. "So did Zayn."

—

In the back of Zayn's head, love just happened to be a bothersome when he gets home, opening the apartment to peace and quiet compared to tonight. It's shouting in his head, brash and pushy, reminding Zayn of how much that topic was brought up. If he knows the answer, then he'd say it without sounding so casual and languid, and he wouldn't deny it if he was for certain.

There wasn't any problems going around anymore between Kappa and Zayn's suspension. It died down somewhere but it still stuck in everyone's mind Zayn had been suspended and that Kappa affiliated with such a person. There's not much anyone can do really once everything goes back to normal. Niall and Louis would just lose their temper if anyone mentions Zayn in a bad way, and Zayn would have to look for ways to get them back to a normal state.

It's only Niall a few nights that Zayn gets to have company with—until January because in three days he leaves with his family to go back to Bel Air. Not that he actually minded, this is really their first time alone at home (or Leigh's home) without anyone being paranoid about who's getting caught. It's all free will. 

Leigh never set any rules down about Niall coming over. Not that they need any. They're all well behaved adults who know what's right and what's wrong. Hopefully, Niall sleeping over isn't breaking anything.

Sitting on the couch, Niall sets up a movie for them to watch while Zayn changes out of his clothes and waits for the kettle to go off. Underhandedly, he throws a pair of shorts to Niall who catches it in one hand and starts to stare at it like he's never seem such a thing before.

"We're not?" Niall stops himself.

"We're not what?" Zayn scoops a heaping pack of cocoa powder before tapping it into two mugs.

Niall turns back from Zayn. "Huh. Never mind. I love you."

"What?" Zayn exclaims, staring at Niall like deer in the headlights. He takes a deep breath, hating how fast his heart is pacing. It wouldn't be happening if Zayn didn't love him too. Even if he doesn't, Zayn can't understand this makes him feel uneasy and reflective. A definite no should make it easy for Zayn to ignore. A definite yes I love you as well should be easy. Why is it hard to say out loud? And why does Niall make something so hard to say, easy and swift?

He catches Niall's gaze fluttering away when there's too much of a long pause between them. He feels tight in his chest, noticing the hesitance from Niall. And it wouldn't hurt if—"Alright. I love you too, but I'm only making one hot chocolate for you."

"Wait, you just said – " Niall looks back to the kitchen where Zayn is. "Really?"

"Yeah." Zayn sighs, not wanting to see the vivid blue eyes sparking with excitement. Once he finishes, he walks to the living to join Niall. He hands him his cup before clasping his own, and sits down without any space between them. "You get _one_."

Niall stares blankly at Zayn when he receives his mug. He doesn't get a look back so he sits back in his spot, watching the start _Crazy, Stupid, Love_. No one felt horror after tonight—especially Niall who finally realized he won't do well at night. And he just enjoys Steve Carell. 

Zayn knew what he meant. Did he want to talk about it? No, not really. He's unsure but somewhere deep within, he's always known it, for at least about a week now—how much he loves Niall to miss him insanely crazy. He doesn't know what made him know that and if anybody—he means Niall—asks when he knew, he really has got no answer whatsoever for him to gush over.

That doesn't mean Zayn isn't going to be lenient on Niall either. What made him say it? Why did he say it back? Why is everything so weird?

"What are you doing over the holidays?" Zayn asks, thumbing the hot chocolate stain on his mug.

"Hm, nothing. You?" Niall replies, watching the marshmallow float on top.

Zayn tilts his head back, pondering to where he is actually going. As long as he's not here, he'll be okay. Travelling is still pocketed somewhere in his mind, regardless the fees—"I'm going home."

"That's good." Niall looks at Zayn.

Zayn shrugs, putting the edge of the mug on his lip. "Apparently my parents will be home this time."

Zayn knows he owes a lot to Niall. The air was still tense. He owes it to him to apologize with an even better apology for avoiding him. 

"Where are you going?" Niall looks up at Zayn when he leaves his cup and begins to contemplate before heading to the balcony door.

"Getting some air." Zayn exhales, sliding the door to leave.

Risk getting sick must be Zayn's specialty. He's not bare armed, but it doesn't make it necessarily better not wearing a jacket. The chills are getting to him—and he begins to shiver and clench his jaw tightly to ease the bitter bite of the cold.

He doesn't know why he's acting out all of the sudden after everything. He wishes not to.

"Zayn, I think I'm gonna go home." Niall mutters quietly by the door, getting Zayn to quickly turn around. "Should leave before it's late."

"Don't." Zayn protests, walking himself back inside the apartment when Niall pops his head back inside. "Why?"

"I have to wake up early to organize your paintings back the way I found them." Niall mutters. "And I'm sorry that I took them without your permission."

"What'd you do with them?" Zayn figures this is the chance to ask.

"I just—made a mock exhibit. I called the clients of your paintings to come and see what you were giving to them in an actual showcase. So they came, and they liked a lot of your other things that you weren't offering to them."

Zayn huffs, crossing his arms. Grimacing, he just can't seem to understand Niall right now. "Why would you do that?"

"You give yourself less of a credit than you deserve. And it was supposed to be my way of making it up to you because I knew you were avoiding me." Niall exhales sharply. "And you never even came. You stayed here, and didn't even want to see what I did."

Niall exhales again, finding no words to spit to Zayn until seconds pass by. Of course, Zayn took it in as his responsibility to hear everything out because everything Niall always says is true. But it's not fair to bring something back they fixed already. And apparently, it was never fixed and dealt with in the first place. Niall spaces himself away from Zayn, leaning against the railing with a hand over his face, inflicting stress.

When he blinks, his eyes are big, holding off from saying anything because that was too much for Zayn to take in. His mouth opens to say something, and he shuts back up afterwards. 

"I-I... I'm sorry." Eventually, Zayn huffs, stammering over a simple letter. His breathing paced faster, and by then, he left to be alone.

Zayn kept to himself in the bathroom—doused his face with cold water like it would fix everything again. It doesn't and he's coughing back his tears until he feels like he's about to puke then he stops, covering his mouth at the bend of his elbow. Then he starts to pace around.

Maybe the only one around here that actually knows what is really going on right now is Niall. 

"Zayn," Niall knocks on the door. That idiot even knows to knock. Zayn can't believe he was blaming everything on him.

"I thought you were going home." His voice is soft when his voice echoes through the washroom.

"Let me in?" 

Zayn breathes to himself, loud enough that Niall can hear through the thin door. Then he hears the door click open, and Niall pushes through—without his jacket on, still looking unprepared to go.

"I didn't mean to yell," Niall grumbles, rubbing Zayn's back. "I'm sorry. I take back what I said. Things make sense differently in our heads. It doesn't mean you're wrong or I'm right. That was wrong of me to say on my part."

"It's fine. You said it already. It was just something I needed to hear and for you to let out." Zayn turns his head to look at Niall, smiling weakly through the agonizing thought of them arguing lately. "Just—thanks for going through the trouble of setting an exhibit. And I'm sorry I didn't come to it. Would've been great to." 

Smiling intently, Niall leaned close enough that their faces are an inch apart. "It'd be also great if you can help me rearrange your things. I don't know if you have a system but—I know I destroyed it."

And Zayn starts to laugh, head lolling back as he does. "Destroy? Hello, Dr. Doomsday. Nice to meet you."

"Stop!" Niall joins in the laughter. His hand goes over Zayn's mouth. "I didn't have any other verb to say!"

Zayn started to gape his mouth before Niall pulled his hand away from being bitten. "I'm not your babysitter, but you need to sleep now if you're staying."

"You have a curfew now?"

"No, but it's weird talking in a bathroom." Zayn sways his head left and right. "And I don't want to talk right now."

He opens the door for Niall, and they both walk out of the bathroom. They ignore the movie that's still playing, along with their hot chocolate which should be mid-room temperature chocolate by now.

There's something stirring in Niall's mind—so he turns around, raising his eyebrows, grinning at Zayn when he clenches the edge of his shirt. "Oh, you wanna – "

"No!" Zayn snaps, holding Niall's hands to stay. "It's cold. Friggen' skin can't take this."

"Mate, you're lucky I love you." Niall hisses. "Pissing me off."

"That's twice you said that tonight." Zayn snorts. 

"Can I hear it back from you?" Niall puts a hand by his ear towards Zayn. "One that's actually really convincing."

Zayn shakes his head. By the time he gets into the room, he's already ready to slip into bed. "It doesn't work like that." He continues the conversation once he adjusts himself under the blanket. All that he's waiting on now is Niall who's busy undressing himself, down to his briefs. Zayn grabs Leigh's stuffed toy. It's almost a round penguin. It's as big as anyone's head and Zayn's resolution to have something in his arms.

"Nothing works with you! Always!" Niall grumps, slipping right beside Zayn. Wrapping his arm around Zayn, he eases into it before looking back at Niall to laugh.

"Why you laughing?" Niall lifts a brow, prompts himself just enough to see over Zayn's shoulder. "Didn't say you can laugh."

Zayn twists his body more to see Niall. Along with his hand, it reaches to touch Niall's cheek. Their lips touch in a manner of seconds with Zayn trying his best to push against Niall's mouth without having to be desperate. His hand slides down from his face, holding his chin in place before parting. A slight second that his lips brush against Niall's, he pecks a light touch on his bottom lip, then the corner of his lips where he likes to end things.

Niall can't complain—at least he got something. Letting go of the stuffed animal and orienting himself to face the other way, Zayn lets Niall curl against him with head on his chest, face hidden in the crook of his neck, breath ghosting on exposed skin. Zayn nestles his face in the softness of Niall's hair as his fingertips press down on his roots. He smells a faint of orange that eases Zayn to fall back in nostalgia and hums, which turns out to be more of a moan Niall that takes his attention.

He doesn't say anything—just smiles into Zayn's neck and nestles even closer against him.


	6. madhouse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I thought you were up to something. I care about him." 
> 
> "I can tell."
> 
> "I don't think I have to worry anymore. I just worry about you and your housemates."
> 
> "You worry about me?" Zayn starts to smile.
> 
> Louis chortles. "You're shit. I don't."
> 
> "You said so yourself!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's me :) thank you for reading this, hope ure enjoying it as much as i am writing it (or rather, re-writing it?? re-editing it?? lol)

Their next morning would revolve around their complaints, how tired they are, how they didn't get enough sleep, how frigid it is in this room. But Zayn found that it was worth sleeping through when he opened his eyes to the figure under the bundle of blanket. He immediately gave up on the cold thoughts, just as he feels Niall pulling off the covers off his head. It reveals his half-opened eyes and disheveled hair. He was completely unamused by the early mornings, preferring the night.

They are welcomed to a much colder room. Frost is scraped against the window, dimming the sunlight that usually breaks through. The light would always reach over the bed—make anything glow gold as it touches surface. It would often reach as far as where Zayn lays. But today's weather isn't permitting that luxury. That might not what mother nature wants for today.

Not only does Zayn wake up to a semi-shit morning, he's curled against himself as if it's life or death. It is—when he's got a frigid room and no blanket over his body. His knees are up to his chest while his hand is under his chin. He faces away from Niall, stripped from every inch of the blanket.

He looks over his shoulder and just like he speculated, he starts to mutter hateful words about Niall who's snatched just about every inch of the blanket. He could be lenient since he's partially naked but that's why Zayn gave him clothes to wear for the night. Stupid cold. Stupid Niall.

As discreet as he can be, he tries to pull the blanket over his leg. Since Niall has gone and stole everything, two inches of the blanket doesn't cover even his leg. He curses even more. Merciless has he become, he tugs aggressively for the blanket, uncovering Niall and pleasantly covering Zayn.

Except Niall's whining, muttering "Stop, it's cold" as his hands frisk Zayn's body for the blanket. Now who told him not to wear anything to sleep?

"Come on!" Niall curls against himself even more that he steals the whole blanket away from Zayn.

"For real!" Zayn hisses unimpressed, pushing himself off the bed as his hands presses his cheeks before leaving the room.

He doesn't look back at Niall because he knows he's fallen back to sleep.

He picks up the blanket on the couch, having it around his shoulder before picking up the left mugs on the tables, pouring the rest of the drinks into the sink as he fills a kettle up with water. There's nothing up in the small lidded cans for Zayn but tea or coffee to warm him up, and there's not much variety in the cupboards because Leigh's not a fan of either. 

The very warm warm blanket is very much out of bounds to him because Niall won't share. Not only is that blanket very much out of bounds to him, he has no idea where the other blankets are. Leigh must not own a lot. But he owes it to her to keep this place kept, tidy, and stacked.

He marks all the things he needs before having a round 2 in the market. He also adds all the things Leigh would like to have in her place when she comes back from London. Zayn is flexible enough to include most of what she wants – if it's cereal or decorations. Or a new blanket.

He nearly turns the hot knob of the shower all the way to its maximum capacity before balancing it by turning the cold water knob. He doesn't necessarily like his long hair. It takes an awful long time to dry compared to when he didn't feel his hair reach the back of his neck.

By the time that he left, Niall hasn't woken up. And Zayn will bet that he won't when he gets back.

The grocery store should be pleasant. Except, like most of the time—he finds himself in a position of having no say in anything. He's certainly wrong at that. The sales are great and all—if he was the first to arrive.

He's beat by the many dozens here – people with family who are shopping and preparing for the holidays. Lucky how children of today's generation get apples as a present. And realistically speaking, Zayn has noticed a few 12-year olds with the recent apple products. It couldn't be the parents'; they relied on it as a check list.

His ancient and cracked iPhone 5 buzzes in his pocket, not investing any time to check the caller I.D. when he picks it up like always.

"Hello." He says casually, strolling through the cereal aisle.

"Are you having breakfast without me?" Niall asks. Zayn could hear the anger in his voice, along with the weariness of just waking up.

"Good morning to you too, asshole." Zayn side eyes the mother of a toddler, hoping she didn't have to hear him cursing by accident. Actually no, it's on purpose. That's what Niall gets for snatching every inch of the blanket.

"Did you sleep on the wrong side of the bed? Because we can arrange that to be fixed later on." Niall says cooly. "Fucking diva. Where are you?"

"Why? It's not like you'll come  and help me with the groceries." Zayn hums afterwards. He figures about a while after scanning the boxes of cereal that out of the many varieties of cereal, Cinnamon Toast Crunch is the best.

"Who shit in your cereal today, Zayn!" Niall cackles through his phone.

"I haven't eaten yet, but I figure you'd be my main suspect because you are a sleazy fuck who doesn't like to share blankets." Zayn didn't realize that his volume came from his normal range to a quiet hissing.

"You are very warm yourself. You didn't need the coverage." Niall makes shuffling noises in the background afterwards.

"That's not how a person maintains their body temperature, babe. Last night's temperature was a death sentence." The apartment could have never been colder. If Niall didn't think of taking all of the blanket, Zayn would be sure Niall would wake up sick. "I have forgotten the reason why I disliked you in the first place. But then, I remember now and it all makes sense."

"I'm expecting breakfast in bed when you get home." Then all the ideas start to come through his lulling and sleepy voice. "You'd wear an apron saying _kiss the cook_ , but I obviously won't see it because I would be in bed. That's where I'll kiss you thanks while you hand me my plate of bacon and eggs on toast."

Zayn bursts out in laughter before coming back to his senses. "Should've told you when we started dating that I don't cook."

"Oh my _god_..." Niall strains his voice. "I really hate you."

"Have fun being alone at home then!" Zayn cackles before hanging up. No worries, he will be back at home at 9:30. 

When Zayn arrives home, the aroma of chocolate hits him. It's very rich, like Belgian if he took the opportunity to ever smell it. But he knows it is that smooth kind of chocolate. And there's another aroma. It's sweet, and not only that, it's spicy as well.

He's even welcomed to faint music playing in the background. It's one of his playlists again—and ironically, _The Morning_ by _The Weeknd_ is playing, at 9am in the morning while Niall cooks. 

Zayn's cheek heat up momentarily when his obstruction of view is cleared, and notices Niall out of his clothes. He grins to himself, watching Niall enjoy himself to the slow and sexually suggestive ambiance he wants to take advantage of. But wow, Niall's really looking good—not that he didn't ever before.

"What are you up to?" Zayn spaces out of his day dream, putting his bags on the counter top, just before peeking at what Niall's stirring up at the stove. It's a small pot, and from where Zayn stands, it's the chocolate he's smelling. 

"Making breakfast 'cause your fuckin' ass can't!"

"Sweet." Zayn drones, putting the groceries away. "What are you cooking for us?"

"Us?" Niall chortles, and Zayn stops the assortment of cans in the cupboard. "Natural selection is coming, Zayn. If ya wanna eat, you cook food yourself."

"First of all, that's not how Natural Selection works." Zayn rests his back against the counter. Shit, Niall thought. He's getting into the teaching mood. "It's the physical attributes that get you to live. Survival of the fittest, love. I believe none of us will survive so—" Zayn shrugs with a grin. "Second, you come into my home... And you talk shit?" The side of his hand rests over his other hand's palm.

"I _knooow_ that." Niall laughs, digging the spatula under the sheet of crepe. "If it makes you any better, I think I made fifteen so you can have a bit."

"Can I ask, why you're nude?"

"Was trying things out since I was finally home alone and all." Then Niall takes a short pause before turning to Zayn. "You can join me. If you want." He nods his chin down with a grin that makes Zayn chuckle.

"Maybe later. I'm still cold." He answers, finally deciding that it was time to take off his jacket. 

His white long-sleeve shirt didn't actually help his skin under his wool jacket because he still felt the breeze seeping into his jacket. 

He keeps his beanie on. Though there is something that particularly makes it wrong to wear inside so he takes off after a few seconds, and messes his hair so he doesn't have 'hat hair'.

Their breakfast was amazing. Zayn never thought how amazing home-cooked meals are until Niall had made it his second time cooking for Zayn. And all the while —he was given a good view as Niall turned his back to him, and finished the rest of the batter while multitasking. He tried his best not to think about Niall naked. Through the sit down, he kept his eyes averted away from Niall. It took will and endurance not to be fixated on his body. And the obscene images that keep flashing in his head weren't helping Zayn at all. 

He has seen Niall bare so many times that he's not able to answer why he's become so restless. Compared to all the other times, he isn't doing anything but standing or sitting. His heart paced immensely fast, and it didn't help him appreciate Niall potentially how well he's cooked. Somehow, he's got to look at that ways he's going to show how he really loved it.

Really, what was so different about this?

"Do you play any sports?" Niall asks, spreading chocolate spread all over his crepe.

"Yeah. Wii sports." Zayn starts to open up a pack of cranberry and yogurt oatmeal cookies.

"I figured." Niall nods as he licks the chocolate off his knife. "You're boring like that."

"I'm not boring. At least I can eat Mexican food without turning red."

"Are you _trying_ to attack me, right now?" Niall scowls while he rips a banana open. "We were having a lovely conversation about hobbies and you're _attacking_ me."

"You said I'm boring!" Zayn retaliates. "That's insulting."

"Can we try to have a lovely conversation without arguing?" Niall starts to cut his banana in pieces, lining his slices in the middle of his crepe. "Like what are we doing for dinner?"

"Mexican."

"That means we're not having sex." Niall nonchalantly tells him when he finally folds his crepe in.

"We haven't even had actual sex for a week so what's the dif—" Zayn looks up from Niall's plate, eyes staring out into space. He looks at Niall afterwards. "We're having pineapples and cranberries."

"So a fruit cocktail, is it now?" Niall lifts a brow through his poker face.

"A delicious cocktail."

"Don't make me laugh." Niall says, evidently laughing.

"You wouldn't want that. I'd be even more boring."

"Oh come on. Don't make it personal. I didn't take it personal when you said I turn red when I eat Mexican food. I love Mexican food." Niall sighs tightly, fixing the way he's sitting on his stool. "Don't take it personal, but I personally took that as an insult."

Zayn shakes his head in disbelief. "You're so dramatic. You're like Angelina Jolie." 

"Excuse me? I for one love her. What's wrong with you, what do you have against her?"

"Nothing!" Zayn starts to frown, pouting his lips out dramatically. Collecting his plate and eating utensils, he makes his way towards the sink. "You're so temperamental."

"But I love you!" Niall exclaims, his eyes focused on cutting his crepe up, making sure he gets a piece of a banana. He's had about 4 of the same combinations 

Zayn stops by Niall, holding his cheek to give him a kiss on the side of the cheek he's chewing on as he cuts another part of his breakfast. "Love you too."

Since Niall took the time to cook about 15 crepes which they only ate about 8 from, Zayn took it on his hands to wash the dishes and cookware Niall used. He really did not want to at all—dishes are a nightmare, especially when there's grease and sticky residue.

And had it crossed his mind that he referred to Niall as _love_  moments ago? Not until Niall had cozied on the couch, wrapped around the good blanket again, that he thought about them together when he started up Crazy, Stupid, Love again. 

It was confusing to Zayn, when they never actually talked about why or when it all began. Frankly, Zayn can't recall when his feelings heightened to the point he says love to Niall like it's the easiest thing possible. He's glad that he can. He was never able to confess something very serious as that before with anyone since Alex. Is it right for the two of them to act like spitting love to each other is right without talking about it at first? Yeah, Zayn nods his head to himself—their relationship allows them to do that. Have they even established they're dating?

He settles on the couch without sitting over any part of Niall, pulling his socks down while Niall shuffles back against the couch to make room for him. This should be okay—stripping down bare, resting naked together, wasting time because no one's in a rush to do another thing. God, Zayn never thought things out like this. Out of all things, the easiest thing—getting naked—he's contemplating the meaning behind it like it's cryptic between them. No! No, that is not the case with getting naked.

He feels a light caress down his lower back as he shoves his hand into the pockets of his pants, wondering if there's anything important to keep in his pockets before throwing it in the dirty laundry pile. He looks back at Niall—caressing his back like it's second nature for him to. In fact, he's focused making Zayn comfortable as he is watching movie. This is supposedly normal between them from now on.

Scavenging through his pockets has somehow become slower, and maybe it's because Zayn doesn't want to admit it that he could just sit there and have Niall's fingertips touch across his back, carefully and thoughtfully.

_Forget it,_ Zayn thinks, when the thoughts of laying with Niall overtake his mind. He gets off the couch, just to lift the blanket off of Niall so he could be tucked inside as well, body between Zayn's legs. Their hips align, and Zayn couldn't have prayed harder than ever before for his dick not to harden against Niall because he can feel Niall's underneath him, just inches away from touching his. He rests his hand on his collarbone as he lets his head relax on Niall's sternum, his other hand gripping Niall's shoulder. And he eases against him as Niall covers the blanket over him, caressing the curve of his back just they way Zayn likes it.

It's only 9:30, and already, can he feel the fatigue flowing within him as his eyelids lower. Thick are his eyelashes that flicker against Niall's skin that he tries his best to ignore and not recognize it as an unlawfully good thing. His free hand isn't free all of the sudden. It's found moving the hair away from Zayn's forehead as he combs his hair back, tugging softly while watching the movie.

"Zayn, let's—" Just when he finally feels like he's melting into the warmest and softest thing, Niall is suggesting that he rolls off and rests in front of him. He looks for all the remaining strength in him to lift his body off of Niall and shuffle off of him, but remain pressed against him. His breath cools over Niall's chest, and it sends off a tinge Niall tightens to. His eyelashes do the same, fluttering on his chest as he blinks. It's quite slow and sluggish, which must mean Zayn is trying to keep awake.

And Niall is wrapping his arm around Zayn's neck with his other one snaking around his waist. But he couldn't be any more nervous with his dick pressing against Zayn's groin, like it won't affect him.

"Isn't Louis worried about where you are?" God, even Zayn's breath is killing him. It's slow, yet heavy—but not heavy enough Niall can hear him.

"He knows I'm here. He knows I'll be fine."

"And you didn't manage to bring clothes for you to wear while staying here?" Zayn's eyebrows narrow to himself, thinking how dumb Niall's situation really is.

"You did." Niall chortles. "So I'm not worried."

Zayn takes a deep breath before relaxing against Niall even more. His blinking has stopped when he let them stay shut. Even his breath is nearly faint and soft that Niall is forced to look down and see if Zayn is still alive.

Oh, thank goodness, Niall sighs and nods his face down in Zayn's hair. It smells just like his hair too. Or that Niall actually used Zayn's shampoo earlier.

It's such a lazy day, and it's a Friday as well. They were used to having work with time being indulged in all of them. Without it, they have all the time in the world doing nothing, and it's their weird kind of nothing.

—

When Zayn wakes up, Niall's weight is being pressed down on him. Their heads are side by side with Niall's body a little half on top of him. The breathing on his neck eases Zayn to close his eyes and blink open before he takes Niall's hand in his, their fingers intertwined as Zayn tucks their hands under his chin. 

"Sappy little thing," Niall groans at his ear, causing Zayn's shoulder to tighten up against Niall's head. "When did y'get so weird?"

"Shut up," Zayn exhales. "It's 12:30. What do you want to do?"

"Eat? Iunoe." For two people who have a whole place to themselves, they suck at coming up with real ideas to do something. Things that don't involve the television or sleep. Eating is what they did two hours ago. They can't just eat again because they have all this free time. Maybe.

"Let's invite Louis over? How about a few of your other brothers?"

"How about yours?" Niall asks, lowering his head that his mouth presses on his shoulder. There was tone that Zayn didn't like because Niall is going to start giving Zayn a lesson on life. And ironically, Zayn has been alive longer than Niall by nine months.

"Oh come on Niall, they're the last group of people I wanna realize that actually exists on campus right now." He didn't really mean that. Being let down and alone a few times by your so-called brothers tends to grow a little bruise inside called a grudge.

"Don't forget the good years with them just because of this, please?" 

"I know! I just have never dealt with this."

"Louis has. Mate hasn't forgiven them, which is something everyone knows. And it's heated things up even more between the two houses. Please, please, please, don't let this consume you. You're way bigger than them, okay?" Niall lifts his body off of Zayn, prompting himself up with his knee and hand. He nears his face directly towards Zayn's face when he doesn't hear anything for about a few seconds until Zayn groans, turning so that his body rests on his side.

"Just call Louis." 

So he does, reaching for his phone over the armrest on the table beside the couch. He does the talking like this with his torso hovering over Zayn's head, elbows resting on the arm rest, and one knee holding him up on his side off the couch. Because there is barely room on the couch, Niall's other leg rests on Zayn's side who doesn't seem to mind.

He doesn't know how he's lasted so long not starting anything with Niall. Especially like right now, he's ignoring parts of Niall's skin rubbing against his, ignoring that they only slept naked and didn't bother to even kiss each other since last night. Zayn doesn't mind that they don't. If Zayn is being honest, he couldn't been more proud of himself not revolving their relationship—and only revolving—that they fuck each other. They've only done it three times.

It's not because Zayn doesn't like having sex with Niall or generally, the whole activity. If anybody knows Zayn, they'd laugh at him right now if they ask how he's doing with Niall because his stories wouldn't be filled with the way he gets him heaving and sweaty. If it was four months ago, even Zayn would laugh at himself about the lack of times they've fucked through the two months that they're currently dating.

He's not sure of himself as of now either. Zayn only knows that he's not tired of doing whatever this is, and that for once—he's doing good. He hasn't hurt or bored Niall to the point he wants to leave him, but just a little that Zayn sees Niall making an effort to make this go through. And if anyone asks him as of now, if he loves Niall and he answers no—he would end up being called out for telling a lie that bad.

When the conversation finishes, Niall gets up from the couch. It's the first time that he leaves the blanket with Zayn who's particularly warm now, not necessarily needing it anymore so he wraps it down to his hip as he rests his body fully on the couch now that Niall is gone. He lifts his legs up to bend a bit, separating them away from each other before rubbing his eyes and looking down his body. Zayn doesn't want to admit he does weird shit sometimes like checking out how his body looks if he does certain poses. 

There's a click on the lock Zayn doesn't bother to give attention to. Niall's just up to something while he roams around the apartment. It's probably his exercise because he hasn't moved off the couch.

Niall comes back, and rests between Zayn's legs, groin back to alignment with his arm coming around Zayn's neck while his other arm hooks under Zayn's arm.

"What are you doing?" Zayn grimaces softly at Niall who's got this look on his face that Zayn thinks he knows the answer.

"Louis is coming here in half an hour," Niall tilts his head diagonally, nearing his moving lips over Zayn's who swallows the nervousness down. "It's enough time to do the do together."

"Do the do? We don't have to." Zayn laughs quietly. Yes, he knows exactly what Niall is up to. "I love you, and doing nothing is fine, if you want that."

"What?" Niall inching away from Zayn, he exhales in disbelief. "So do I, but—it doesn't mean we can't have sex."

Niall thinks he's going out of his mind. No one says anything like this. He nears his lips towards Zayn again, pouting them out for a kiss. Instead, he doesn't kiss Zayn on the lips.

"Zayn!" Niall raises his voice through his annoyance . He glares at Zayn for turning his head away.

Muttering a constant apology, Zayn puts his hand on Niall's cheek, easing his temper down. "Okay, okay, yeah—I'm just saying," Zayn whispers. "I love you and sex isn't important as you are whole to me. I don't want you to think that's all I want to do or that it's something we have to do because we don't. I-I love you beyond that. This—was just something that's been in my head since my first year because of that stupid video. This is all I'm really known for and I just don't want you to think this means nothing just because I slept around so irrationally. I know it doesn't have to mean anything but I want it to mean something with you all the time because I never had anything so real."

Niall huffs a smile out after the whole entire time he spent staring into Zayn's eyes, thumbing just above his eyebrow. All he wants to do now is just hug Zayn all day, tell him he loves him until he loses his voice.

"I know you had your experiences with people, but you're different from back then." Suddenly, Niall gives a light touch with his lips over his eyebrow that Zayn doesn't move from. It follows to the sharp edge of his cheekbones before he can kiss the corner of his lips. Barely a kiss, it was the soft touch Niall gives him. "We give it a meaning that it's not just for fun. I never thought it was just for fun. And I know you think it doesn't mean that we think of each other. I do it because I love you and that's something I don't mind showing or proving to you at all—so don't think we're not allowed to do this because of all the other times you had with randoms." Then there's the touch of Niall's lips over Zayn's that sends him to melt and let all things bitter and sad go. Even his hatred for Harry and Rho has disappeared somewhere, in the back of his mind.

"I know you care about me—" Niall exhales before putting his mouth against Zayn. He presses himself even more as they force their mouths together. "You don't have to tell me because it's the way you touch me I can tell. So we can fuck each other—" Niall pushes his hip against Zayn, trying to rub against him through the blanket. "Like it doesn't mean anything—" Niall's tongue enters in Zayn's mouth so sudden that he accidentally let out a long moan they were able to hear when Niall pulls away and mouths eagerly at his neck.

He puts his whole body and love into it; face burying into the crook of Zayn's neck as he presses his mouth harder, head tilting as his lips close around the spot before he'll tilt his head back the other way and close his mouth over.

He doesn't even need to finish his sentence because Zayn knows exactly what Niall means because they've been doing it that way the whole time.

His hands travel to the start of the curve of Niall's bum before he could go lower and knead his hand down over his cheek. Niall's mouth is back over Zayn's, his head accordingly moving left and right with his kiss while his tongue is so determined to lick his mouth until Zayn can't taste his own mouth anymore.

"Fuck," Zayn breathes out when he pulls away to tilt his head back and close his eyes, feeling Niall's intent grinding. Their hipbones clash against each other with the blanket still in between. Zayn looking for refuge through the continuous kneading of Niall's cheek, his fingers suddenly press over his entrance before his other hand came down to his bum as well, and both hands gripped on Niall's cheeks, spreading them apart as Niall moaned, grinding even faster. 

"Keep doing that." Zayn's eyes roll back as he rips the blanket off his hip.

"Not when I have something else in mind." Niall takes a moment to suck on Zayn's bottom lip, let his teeth nibble softly until he slowly pulls his mouth away from his so he could make his way down to his chest.

Niall kisses him all around his torso, using his mouth to leave wet kisses just above his heart. There was a longer set of seconds that felt like an entire minute that Niall spent on his nipple licking and sucking it sweetly, no aggression seen from his face. He took his time going all over his chest until he left that last kiss just over the little to no hair over his groin.

Zayn slides his leg up until his foot is planted right into the cushion, his teeth weakly biting on the skin on the tip of his thumb as he turns his head to the side. He's got an entire view of Niall's body sitting on his knees, hunched over between his legs. A part of him wants Niall to look at him, but there's a growing side to him that's flourishing in his stomach to watch the wrinkle between his eyebrows and show how deep his is into the idea of fulfilling his intentions. 

He has a kneading grip around Zayn's dick, his tongue making sure it laps around every spot. A long, flat stroke around the base up, Niall sucks his own lips, lets his fingers massage his shaft. And they come out wet and pinker than before. He didn't know it was going to be a heart beat away that Niall's whole mouth sucks the side of his shaft, his lips tightening on his. His lips pop off just at the start of his head, lets his tongue flick off of it while his mind starts to beg please, no.

It took two fast-paced heartbeats for Niall's mouth to take Zayn's dick entirely, slowly let his head sink down all the way, let his nose press into his skin while Zayn's doing all he can not to jizz  into his throat right then and there. He starts off bobbing enough he can feel his foreskin move with his mouth. His thumb rubbing circles at the same spot over and over on the base of his dick. Zayn thinks slow is good, that he can enjoy this whole moment Niall's sucking him off while they wait for Louis to come. 

Out comes a long and buried hum mixed with moaning from Niall, and there's his cue that he's going to heaven in less than ten minutes. Yeah, his lips suck tightly before it pops off his head, and Zayn thinks this is already over but he's just going to play himself and he definitely shouldn't at this moment.

Zayn sucks in a deep breath from his open mouth, letting a soft grunt escape as he accepts heaven. He's going to take the billion of stars behind his eyes and let it blind him, relax his body before he's holding forcing every nerve in his system to keep him from coming. 

He's so relaxed, all he can do is grunt and breathe from his mouth and behind his shut eyes, let words of agreement be swept away with his exhales. He's not even aware of his weakly bucking hips or the hand in Niall's hair pushing him to stay down longer.

"Oh, Louis doesn't have to come just yet." Zayn grunting softly. 

Zayn moans out by the time Niall's three fingers held Zayn's dick up. Vigorously in a consistent pace, Niall's head bobbed from top to bottom, feeling the vibrations in his moaning surge through his dick. Then it seems like he's doing it all on purpose when he gets faster, his lips vibrating through his humming. At the same time, Zayn's jutting his hips up, and in perfect rhythm, he gets his dick at the back of Niall's throat. 

"I'm close." Zayn sucks a deep breath as he bites his lip down at Niall taking his entire dick with ease in his mouth, cheeks hallowed in. From the base, he pulls off his dick slowly and tightly like it's candy to him. Especially the head where Niall's lips are tight and sharp, letting this long wet sucking noise emit as Niall takes his time pulling his mouth off his head. 

Niall bites his lip down while he strokes Zayn down with his three fingers, probably just to watch his foreskin move back. He's got his puppy eyes on when he finally looks up. Absently, he traces his lips with the tip of Zayn's dick. "I haven't felt really dirty in a while." He says quietly, voice rough and low.

"Had enough in your mouth?" Zayn teases, knowing what he knew by dirty.

"Maybe some other time." Niall laughs quietly, and he started again—fast and sloppy. It made Zayn a little mad, but that's the plan. Halfway, Niall would pull up, letting his tongue massage down his dick as he bobbed his head down, over and over, moaning and shaking his head with Zayn's entire dick in his mouth. 

"Shit, Niall." Zayn stammers as his dick twitches and hips stutter. Quickly, Niall pulls off and fists Zayn's dick off until he feels the heat on his tongue. It's a whole ribbon and lace of white on his face, more than the two drops he expected. It's thick and hot, and everywhere on Niall's face, and the last bit he had in him, Niall spent with his mouth wrapped around, feeling the last heated spurt on his tongue that he used to coat Zayn's dick as he slowly moved his head up and down. 

A blowjob was really barely anything, but meant everything to Zayn that he licked inside Niall's mouth at the end when he finished coming; drowsy and strained eyes, sweaty and flushed faced, lips vibrant as ripened cherries, and both chests heaving for air. As if they'd find some just inhaling and exhaling each other's air and no more. Niall could barely breathe between the kisses but he still tried, letting Zayn nip and lick his lips, let his tongue poke inside his mouth. He held his face tight, let his thumb spread the cum all over his face. When they tilt their heads, his thumb would rub and slide all over Niall's cheek, leave a red imprint of the hard pressure he left holding his face so close and tight.

"You're so delicious." Niall whispers, pushing his mouth for Zayn's tongue to flick off of his. 

"I wish you could see your face." Zayn presses his face against Niall's, flicking his tongue off his cheek, catch his own taste in his mouth for Niall. He takes a deep breath, his cheek sliding against Niall until his face is in his neck, and he starts to mouth a spot under his jaw.

And to think he was just about to give this all up for the idea that this wouldn't mean anything. Of course it does; it brings out the many thoughts he has about Niall, the beautiful ones like how easily they know each other's body, knows what each person likes. And he continues to bruise a spot on his skin so the things he has in his mind, don't disappear so soon and become these subconscious thoughts.

"It sinks in here." Louis' voice breaks the peace between them, and Niall's quick to throw the fallen blanket over their hips at least. Zayn is stuck somewhere in euphoria, and he really doesn't want to leave. Get the fuck out, Louis Is what he would say, if he has the words and mind to.

"And no wonder!" Louis snickers when he crosses his arm over the couch. 

"You could have knocked." Niall sighs, letting his head fall into Zayn's neck. He isn't overwhelmed by Louis' presence compared to Zayn who's holding the blanket down their hips for his life. It's only because Niall lives with Louis that they're all comfortable and familiar seeing each other bare once in a while. And Zayn—he should be used to it since he did own a video once which is lost and hope to god, stays lost.

"Don't worry, Zayn," Louis laughs. "I don't want to see as much as you don't want to show me."

"I did groceries—" Zayn breathes, ignoring Niall snorting at his irrelevant comment. "There's like, chips, somewhere. And like," Zayn rubs his face. " _Thing_."

"I love me _some_ thing." Louis laughs, only because of his pun or whatever kind of joke that was. "I am funny!"

Zayn can hear him raiding the fridge and cabinets, and it's when he breathes out, listening very carefully to Niall whispering at his ear as he rests his head on Zayn's shoulder and his face hidden on the crook of his neck.

"What do we do?" Niall exhales. And it's not suggestive as he's portraying it to be.

"Um, clean up. You clean up. I gotta talk to him anyways."

"Yes! Clean up! I don't want to see any semen, please." Louis closes a cabinet as Zayn secretly makes a face at him.

Niall starts to snide. "Whatever Louis. You're the one who eats pussy like crazy. You're like the king of sem—"

"Come on, Niall." Zayn scoffs, trying not to laugh.

When Niall leaves to go to the bathroom, Zayn dresses himself up from his clothes early this morning. Louis was nice enough to turn away, but not too nice that he sneaked a peek of Zayn tucking his dick back in his briefs, and adjusting it in his pants so it's not obvious. 

_Alright_. Louis thinks. _Alright, alright, alright._

Louis prepared chips in a bowl that he set on the middle of the counter. Sadly, now all of them have to eat it because he emptied the whole Cheeto puffs bag.

"Are you okay?" Louis takes an obnoxious bite of the one chip. It's no surprise he's asking that.

"Yeah." Zayn nods slowly. "I talked it out with him. And I'm sorry I lied to you. I wasn't busy. I just hated you guys for like the whole time. But don't tell Niall that part. He'll hate me too."

"That's not possible, actually. But—" Louis takes another one in his mouth. "What do we wanna do today? Target practice Rho's little Christmas lawn decorations?"

"We haven't got a clue, but that's an interesting idea if I wasn't in Rho. That's why we called you." Zayn grins but goes back to a plain face expression. "I wanna talk to you, though."

Louis nods, continuously eating. He's very much listening, and Zayn takes a deep breath before, "I'm sorry that you left Rho and that I never got to know you as well as I thought."

Louis lifts a brow. "I know where this is going," and he smiles at Zayn—the most sincere one he's ever gotten from him. " And I know how you feel about what's been going on 'cause it's happened to me." Zayn nods understandingly. "Rho has so much going for them because of the ideas and shit everyone has. That's why Rho stands tall above all of us, sad to admit. But you know, and I know—that that's not just what we need because if I left, and you're on the verge of it—there is something they're not doing right."

"I told them that." Zayn sighs, rubbing the countertop in stress. "That's why I'm suspended."

"Rho is a lost cause. No offence." Though Louis thinks he doesn't have to say that. "They're stubborn as a goat and hate being wrong. Why do you think I left?"

Louis shakes his head, and begins to lick his fingers. "Think very wise, Malik. Thinking for yourself and thinking for everybody else is going to give you two very different outcomes. Just be sure at the end that you're happy."

"Are you happy now?"

"I'm fucking alive! I'm president and Harry hates me!" Louis' arms throw up in excitement as Zayn laughs. He puts them down, picking a few more chips to munch on. 

"This is weird." Zayn exhales, grinning apologetically. "Like, remember when you hated me—and wanted to kill me because you thought I did something to Niall? Now we're actually talking."

"I thought you were up to something. I care about him." 

"I can tell."

"I don't think I have to worry anymore. I just worry about you and your housemates."

"You worry about me?" Zayn starts to smile.

Louis chortles. "You're shit. I don't."

"You said so yourself!"

Niall comes back the main room, hair half wet with new clothes on.

"Those are my..." Zayn's voice fades when he accepts that Niall wouldn't give a damn if he wears his clothes. His olive henley shirt, his black skinnies—everything was Zayn's. He can bet he even got his briefs on.

"We're wondering what we're going to do." Louis fills Niall in.

"Let's go shopping." Niall starts to pour himself chocolate milk. He puts it back in the fridge, making Zayn wonder what gave him the idea to do that.

"Someone hasn't got me a gift?" Louis' eyebrow quirks up

"I got you shoes last year." Niall huffs scornfully.

"Last year." Louis repeats in the same tone.

"Hundred-fifty dollar shoes you don't even wear anymore." Niall pulls the bowl away from Louis. "Not fair."

"Niall, what do you want for Christmas?" Zayn asks, getting a sheepish smile from Niall behind his glass.

"How about Louis?" Louis raises his hand up.

"Mind blowing penetrative sex." Niall replies, simple and quick. He didn't have to think at all.

"Something actually materialistic." Zayn sighs.

"Fine. I'll say the most expensive thing in me head." Niall snaps. "Sex or new interiors for my room."

Zayn ponders for a moment, thinking about all of his dad's friends that have good terms with the family. He nods as he looks towards Niall. "That can be done." 

"Huh?" Niall grimaces disgustedly. He wasn't expecting Zayn to agree so fast. Or agree in the first place.

"Hold up. Now, Niall can't have a better room than me."

"Louis, I'll pay for your interior once you find a place after university." Zayn pulls out his fun, figured that checking his emails on the spot would be a good thing to do.

Louis looks at Zayn intrigued, holding his chin with his hand as he settles his elbow on the counter. "Tell me, how rich is your family?"

"Uhh..." Zayn scrolls down his email, unsure if he can multitask while reading emails. "Enough that my family is able to fund this university," Sometimes Zayn likes to brag. He doesn't do so often because affiliations with money sometimes bring unwanted attention. "Buy you a condo, buy Niall next year's range rover, and own a chain of hotels down in Casablanca and Milan."

"What the fuck?" Louis' face twists.

"That's fuckin' hot." Niall exhales, supposedly to himself but Zayn and Louis hear, causing Zayn to laugh.

"So what are you doing here in school?"

"I got my own shit to do."

"Pay for my tuition." Says Niall.

"Sorry, Niall." Zayn hums.

"Guys, shopping sounds great." Louis claps his hands together. "By great, we can watch Zayn swipe his credit and punch his pin in non-stop."

Zayn laughs as his head shakes. "I'm not buying anything. Presents maybe. And a few clothes for Niall because he keeps taking mine."

"Did I tell you I love you today?" Niall laughs, putting his arm around Zayn. His other hand holds Zayn's face, turning him to look back.

"You told me." Zayn nods.

Niall can't even help that Louis' here. Pushing his mouth against Zayn, he gets a mutual exchange. Even more so, he's the one into it way more than Niall. He just looks very fit in his clothes.

"Ahem!" They part, finding Louis looking off to the right. Their faces both flush and Niall takes a step away from Zayn.

"Sorry." Zayn mutters, licking his lips. He avoids wiping them, especially just after Niall kissed him.

"Even though I can't do that, I still love you, Zayn." Louis pats his chest. "Fucking love you to bits. More than Niall. I'll present you Shakespeare's sonnet."

"Say a line."

"Eh..."

_"Love is not love which alters when it alteration finds, or bends with the remover to remove."_ Zayn recites Sonnet 116.

"Yeah, that." Louis nods. "I said that."

"I taught him that!" Niall muses.

—

Zayn can't say he doesn't like treating Niall to pretty little things because he finds that he does like when he buys stuff for Niall. He doesn't make him buy useless things which would have made him hate paying for Niall.

Like a smart man, he buys briefs because he doesn't have any staying over with Zayn. He buys at least 6 shirts because he doesn't have any shirts with him and they're all on sale. Then he says he'll settle with his trousers but that's funny because he only has one from his suit he wore yesterday, and Zayn's jeans he's wearing right now. So Zayn buys him a pair and he doesn't say anything.

Unlike before, Zayn isn't bothered by Niall kissing him in public. It's brief and on the cheek and he returns the favour when he goes off to his stores to buy something for his family before leaving Portland tomorrow.

The things he bought for Niall aren't even his present for Christmas. It's bad now shopping for it alone because he could buy something amazing to him and be really shit to Niall. Asking him would be very obvious and he knows the whole interior decoration of his room is a lie.

He ends up buying a book, a few potted plants for Leigh's place. He has an idea in mind for Niall's Christmas gift but he has no idea how to carry it home.

Zayn meets up with Louis in the games store. He seems to be deciding between two games to get, holding Sims 4 or the new Black Ops III, looking back and fourth on the cover as if it determines everything.

"What should I get Niall as a present?" Zayn mutters by his side, looking at the games stacked against the wall. Niall would very much enjoy a video game but it's not special.

"He's the best person to shop for. You'll have no problem." Tells Louis, putting back the Call of Duty game. "He likes everything. One time, I got him socks with money. He wore the socks and bought himself a cookbook with that money!"

"So I should get him essential things?" Zayn raises his eyebrows. "'Cause I was thinking speakers for his room or like shoes, or even a baking book because..."

"You're really thinking." Louis laughs quietly, patting Zayn on his shoulder. "He likes your work. Like your paintings."

"He'd like that?" Zayn ponders out loud. Ideas are coming up like daisies in the spring, and now Zayn has about like 20 gifts in mind to give.

"Yes." States Louis, firm and confident.

So speakers, a baking book, shoes, and his sketchbook it is.

—

Niall with his glasses on is studying on the floor with his textbook on the coffee table. He's got Zayn's sweats on, and the new t-shirt Zayn bought for him. It's particularly tight but not that Zayn is complaining. There's a peek of his skin between the band of his sweats when Niall stretches his arm. Behind his sandwich, Zayn tries not to make it obvious that he's watching Niall read a book more than the movie playing. Even enjoying it more as well.

Niall's face is stern and focused, lips barely moving as he reads the words his finger follows. About any second now that Zayn looks to the TV screen, Niall will turn to look at him to see if he's occupied as well.

But this time his eyes don't dart away when Niall looks at Zayn, pushing his glasses back to his nose. He looks rather lost and uncertain when he stares at Zayn. When he blinks his big, blue eyes, Zayn's expression suddenly grows  beatifically.

"Do you want one?" Zayn asks pushing the plate of his sandwich, expression still radiant.

"Please?" Niall pouts.

"I got you." Zayn's voice strains when he gets up from the couch.

Niall goes back to studying and Zayn is back to admiring him, afar and not subtle at all.

This is easy and nice. Every second of it, Zayn is taking advantage. Niall won't be over forever, Zayn won't be living here as soon as his suspension is lifted, and they'd be back to having their time together here with Leigh's or the studio. The studio isn't a bad place but if it has a bed and a fridge, Zayn would be much happier. 

Normally, Zayn wouldn't even be doing anything right now. He'd be in his room, letting the music play while his brothers make ruckus in their room and that would be it. Someone else would be taking responsibility of cleaning up because they take turns doing those sorts of things. 

Here, Zayn can do anything and like doing it. There aren't any boundaries and it makes things easier for him. Not being occupied is the one thing Zayn doesn't want to be.

He sets the plate in front of Niall before crashing onto the couch again; kicking his feet up and resting his head on the pillow.

"Thanks." Niall exhales, dropping his pen in the middle of the textbook.

"You're welcome." Zayn says automatically.

"When are you heading home?" Niall asks just when he picks up his sandwich.

"Tomorrow." Zayn turns his body on his side so his head doesn't have to be the one moving to look at Niall.

Niall grimaces just when he realizes, "That's quite short time together."

Zayn doesn't acknowledge that fact that he's right because he doesn't want to leave. "You?"

"Nothing." Niall shrugs, taking a bite.

That hurt a bit, even if those weren't supposed to sting and ache Zayn. It still does.

"You're really not doing anything?" His voice is timid.

"Can't pay for a flight home until Summer." It pains Zayn to admit that he snugs his face into the pillow. Niall smiles and Zayn forces himself to swallow it down. Such a bleak and numb smile, Zayn can't think to take his time if Niall feels dejected.

"Wanna spend it with me?" Zayn asks. It's a bit frightening. Not even Alex spent Christmas with Zayn—just Thanksgiving.

"Y-yeah. That'd be great. If it's no trouble at all."

"It isn't."

Niall grins, messing Zayn's hair before taking his plate to the sink.

—

Zayn meets Louis again while Niall's in Leigh's room. The plan is to surprise Niall. And Zayn shouldn't be saying gifts at all when he made Louis parade to Leigh's apartment again to pick up a duffle-bag full of gifts. He took the time to wrap them individually—even struggled to hide them when Niall came around so he locked himself in the washroom.

Of course Louis gets his present too—another video game he didn't expect at all. Zayn knew Louis would figure it out by the time he held the wrapped case. To be honest, Zayn didn't know him well enough to give him something collective as Niall. 

"Don't expect me to carry these..." Louis huffs. Boxes are individually wrapped—all 5 being Niall's gifts. Like he planned—there's his sketchbook that's so old that the corners are folded in, quality bluetooth speaker, a book on how to bake (selfish purposes so Niall can make him some goods without having to go to the Heis and spend his money there), a blanket because god knows and so does Zayn that he needs one.

"Maybe I should've dated you..." Louis scoffs.

"You know the plan?" Zayn zips the bag closed.

"Put each one where he'd put it if he had it already." Louis nods. "Can't just give this to him yourself?"

"No, I'll be assessing some things before meeting my family." Zayn makes a mental list of them. How excruciating and frightening they are.

"And I will make sure he gives you just as much love through presents like you have." Louis clicks his tongue, giving a wink to Zayn.

Instead of laughing, his eyes widened. "No! Don't. Let him give what he wants to give." The last thing Zayn needs is Niall feeling the pressure and force of having to give as much as him. 

He gave those things because they were things Niall would need—especially the speakers because Niall was living off of his iPhone's speakers. How dreadful. They are things Zayn bought, not to prove or show that his affection to him is materialistic—rather that he's willing to do so much to make him happy. If Niall gives him a small gift, it wouldn't even matter to Zayn. All he would think about is how much it means to Niall himself to be giving it to him. The thought counts. Nothing more.

Then, the moment of truth. 

He's been planning this apology out for some time now. From the guilt Niall keeps putting on him and Louis' advice to do whatever makes him happy, it won't. Though apologizing will relieve him of pressure more than anything.

It quakes him internally to have to apologize to his whole fraternity house with a few gone already for the holidays. If he has to do it again... Oh brother, he won't bother to at all. Once is already enough and he knows this isn't going to fix everything he's caused between everyone.

The keys to the house are still attached to his keychain with his USB and the little charm attached that his sister gave. Phoebe's kegs are also in the same pocket he's tucked his own keys in but he can never mistake his own keys. He's used it far too many times through his years.

He does a light knock that he begins to regret already. It should've been firm. He believes that light knock reflects his fear of doing something that takes so much courage and no fear at all. And he's right in so many ways he doesn't want to accept in his own mind.

The light steps behind the door causes Zayn's cheeks to flush. Hot. Hot. It's getting hot. Is the earth shaking too? No, that's just him.

When Harry swings the door open, his face darkens while Zayn could not be any more surprised than he already is that he's home. _Breathe. Breathe. Don't forget to breathe._

_And talk as well!_

"H-hi." Zayn stammers over the thickness of the saliva building up due to the fact he's never felt more fear through him than ever before.

And he should.

It adds more when Harry leaves to go to the living room. Zayn afraid to take a step inside their house, he does anyway. He needs to. 

It's been so long he's seen his home. It's cleaner but he can bet Harry's made the pledges slaves to Rho. Even the holiday decorations are up—the menorah is up on the counter with some of the candles lit up, then the kinara which is up on the fireplace. There's the christmas tree by the window of the dining room as well—lights off and very well decorated. Also, there's a few small ones that stand on the ledge of the window. Its lights too are off.

"Hey Zayn," He gets greeted by a pledge. God, he feels awful not knowing all their names. "Hair's looking good."

"Thanks." Zayn laughs quietly. Never thought he'd have a compliment about his hair and his plan to grow it out.

"You staying home for the holidays?" He asks with a smile on his face. Zayn thinks he seems to be a fairly happy guy. Why couldn't he get his holiday spirit on like him.

"No." Zayn shakes his head. "I'm catching a flight later this evening. You?"

"Oh," he smiles sheepishly. "My family is coming here. I asked Harry if I could celebrate and tell my family about what Rho is about. He said yes, so I'm going to be doing everything here."

"I'll help you out with preparations." Zayn offers. It's the least he can do when he's been absent.

"Gee Zayn," he shakes his head. "I-I appreciate it but, you must be busy. I don't want to keep you occupied."

Zayn starts to shake his head at "Let me, alright?" Zayn grips his shoulder. "What's your name?"

"Kyle, sir."

"Uh—" Zayn grimaces for a second. "Zayn is good."

He pushes him to join Harry in the living room—heart beating erratically when he blocks the television from Harry. He doesn't seem impressed. But when is he ever impressed with him? These days, Zayn knows the last person Harry wants to talk to is him. Not even Louis.

Harry lifts his brow, glaring ever so intensely. Zayn is on fire—Harry's state is causing him to combust. Not good.

"Uh..." Zayn stalls. "Harry, Kyle—I thought more of the guys would be here but it seems they've left..." Deep breath. "I owe you, but to them as well an apology for my behaviour these past few months."

He really doesn't mean it.

"My lack of contribution to Rho,"

_Not this one either._

"And my absence for the last few weeks."

_Yeah, right._

Harry's glare stays until he's getting up from his seat. Zayn watches him disappear up the stairs. Knowing Harry, he'll be confiding in his room. He looks back at Kyle, receiving a hesitant shrug. 

No one knows what's truly going on with Rho's current situation. Harry's reaction is very much the only one he expected. Not that Kyle is to blame for anything, he might actually have no idea what's going on.

Zayn follows Harry up to his room—finds him face down on his bed. Something tells Zayn he just barged in and collapsed like that.

"Harry," Zayn whispers not to disturb any more than he already has. He stands by the edge of his bed—memories flashing back to when he used to he here all the time. No, that can't happen.

"Harry." Zayn says much more stern this time, putting a knee on his bed. "I know you have something to say. I'm not leaving until you tell me what you want me to hear. No one's here. It's just you and me like how it was always supposed to be."

No doubt, that sprang Harry to turn over and sit up. It wasn't a straight posture but it's something else.

"I don't care, Zayn." Harry mumbles. It's been such a long while they've really talked without anyone being an audience. There's always a contrast to Harry without anyone watching and him being alone with Zayn. Saying Harry being alone with anyone isn't just the same as Zayn being with him. It's much more to him.

"I don't wanna talk about Rho." He continues.

"What's on your mind then?" Zayn grimaces. "Because we can't keep avoiding the fact that we—"

"Why are you going steady with him?" Harry blurts out all of the sudden, turning his attention directly to Zayn. And he did no more but to at least give it back to him.

"W-what do you mean?" Zayn's eyes stay wide open, blinking fervently. Oh, he knows what he means—he just can't accept he'd ask such a thing.

He's speechless, even hot now that he can't even answer a question that should be the easiest thing he can answer. Does it make him a hypocrite that he'll shower Niall with I love you's but can't answer why they're dating in the first place?

"Niall understands." Zayn finally answers. 

"Understands what?" Harry scoffs, a twist in his face that Zayn looks away from. He suddenly feels humiliated.

"I-I don't know..." Zayn stammers, running his fingers on his hand. "Everything. He understands everything. He's always been there for me. He doesn't see me as a hook up."

"So what was I to you?" Harry huffs.

Zayn lets out a deep breath. He should've known. A part of him says he's always had, and it's the one that always drove him to always go to Harry. It's the acceptance he loved—how Harry always welcomed him in...

It's more than that now. It's more than just sleeping around when it comes to Niall. It means something important to Zayn.

"Someone—I used..." Zayn confessed quietly. It's nothing no one wants to admit. Especially Zayn, as he stares at Harry accepting it.

Zayn takes a deep breath, combing his hair out of his face. "But I didn't mean to hurt you like that. I haven't exactly had a real idea of what I've been doing for the past few years. And I'm trying to mature, go past daily hook ups and getting drunk. We'll be in our fourth year in 8 months—I haven't even gotten a clue to what I wanna do with my life. But I just wanted to heal what I've been feeling since first year. It wasn't working out."

"I know you didn't," Harry sighs, clenching his eyes closed. "You don't mean a lot of things. I also know your first year was shit, but you've gotten past it. I remember you not be able to sleep or go to class. You've improved."

"But you've hurt me in so many ways. All these lies and manipulation—I was never here for that. You mean something, Harry, you do." Zayn leaned in without a thought to wrap his arms around Harry. "We've gone back since our first year together but it's hard to really come back the same."

Harry sighs because it's true, throwing his arms around Zayn as well. They're the ones who started the modern legacy of Rho—even more looking back before college. God, the way they let petty problems go between them is so embarrassing. Harry could never get that all back again.

"I love you, Zayn." Harry breathes out, resting his head on his shoulder. "And I apologize for everything. The things I said and did. I took it too far and forgot who you were to me."

"I love you as well," Zayn rubs his back. He always has and will. But it won't be the way he loves Niall.

Things won't mend so quickly between them. But they start off by helping Kyle with holiday preparations. Better to do something than nothing at all and expect things to go better without doing anything at all.

Harry's going home tomorrow—much later than Zayn because he's got some things to fix and prepare for second semester. And since the pledges have spent half the semester following under Rho's rules with the next semester to come, it's going to come to them in a snap. It'll be the worst shit they'll ever have to come by. Not only will they have to work twice as hard to keep up their reputation, but the olympics.

Fuck the Olympics. 

Sure fraternities started because of the jocks and all but it's 2015, Rho's given up of the jocks and steroid addicts. The majority are just normal students who couldn't actually give a shit about the Olympics. But oh god, 'let's keep traditions' someone suggested. No one even plays sports—except soccer and football that they play for leisure like Niall (oh shit). And people like Zayn who can't kick a goddamn ball to save his life, suffer through the entire week.

"Have fun." Harry hands him his backpack full of clothes to take with him. "Don't get too drunk."

"You too." Zayn laughs, putting his arms through the straps.


	7. california

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They got to the presents later that day and Zayn suddenly wasn't feeling all that great when Niall had only gotten one from under the tree.
> 
> "Zayn, you didn't get him anything?" Waliyha whispers.
> 
> "You idiot, of course I did." Zayn frowns.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fyi. the title of this chapter is a song by phantom planet and it's a really great tune. i heard it back in 2005 when i was watching the OC lol. beach vibes

He didn't want to leave Portland. Holidays with his family is the most dreadful thing Zayn has to go through. He doesn't mind the Christmas parties and banquets, but—their family isn't good with any of the people that come. His parents are, but him and his sister don't know anybody. It isn't a get together with family and friends which Zayn would have no problem with—it's business associates of some sort. As if their parents don't work hard enough already.

Zayn hasn't found himself to be home since the summer. Now that he thinks about it, he's missed a lot of those celebrations. Particularly Eid and Ramadan but he's been fairly feeling distant from Islam when being with his family turned more into a once in a while thing; everyone has their own lives now. He wonders if he didn't, how different will he be from who is he now?

With Niall spending the holidays with him, all the more reason for his parents to stay. It hurt him that they would only stay if there was new company to keep entertained. Zayn wants to be on that 'at least they're home' mind-set like Waliyha. He's far from it.

His dad knew who Niall was so introductions between them weren't viable. Although, he was there when Zayn gave Niall and his mother a formal introduction when they arrived at Zayn's house. It began with Niall's dying fondness over Zayn's mansion which beats Kappa and Rho's houses altogether. There must be eight washrooms in this place, is all Niall thought. 

They exchanged handshakes; his mom shared her name, 'Trisha', and Niall shared his, with—"I'm Zayn's amazing boyfriend." Niall rolls his eyes in modesty. That comes as a surprise to Zayn—they've been actually dating all this time.

"What?" His dad exclaims from the kitchen. Zayn can feel the vein in the middle of his forehead grow. He begins to drag his suitcase up the curling stairs to the second floor faster—before his dad comes out. "You're dating Kappa?"

"Oh?" Trisha coos. "After two years, huh Zayn?"

"Mm'yeah..." Zayn grumbles.

He knew this weird thing would happen. But what can he do? His mother always wants somebody to share Zayn's embarrassing baby photos and moments with. They're already bonding downstairs over the apparently amazing interior of this house.

Zayn misses his room. It's fairly large with it's own washroom and walk-in closet. He left the clothes he doesn't wear anymore and thank god he didn't throw them out—Niall could use them instead of picking clothes out from his luggage. They're very cool band shirts. With his room smelling like oranges, he knows he's home—king sized bed and linen sheets, yes please.

His mom pops by his door with Niall stuck in awe—jaw dropping at everything. It might just fall off his face if he continues to go around. They've got an indoor, salt-water pool, five car garage, a tennis court—why would Zayn ever leave this haven?

"Showing your boyfriend around." His mom smiles mischievously. 

"You mean Niall?" Zayn raises a brow, pulling clothes out his suitcase to see what's clean and what's not. Zayn can never read his parents. His mom says boyfriend, but it could mean a lot of this. Like, _hey, you've finally got a boyfriend—or hey, you're actually dating someone who isn't tatted up and actually has a goal set in mind of what he wants to do_. Maybe he's thinking of it all wrong and really, she's actually happy Zayn's found someone good.

She shakes her head, followed by a tap on Niall's shoulder—still stuck in awe of Zayn's room. This place isn't even it—that one is right outside his view from his windows. In his room, he only has a circular table with chairs. In special occasions, he would get breakfast in his room. As well as a giant, smooth, wood wallboard behind his bed with soft lights just above the bed. It's really considered its own wall with the bedside tables slotted right in. Low ceiling, tiny circular lights lined up. He's got a seat, a coffee table in the bedroom side. In the other separate room is the entrance between closet area and the bedroom. It's more than big—more space than Zayn could even use.

"You know, you're sleeping in a separate room?" She smiles. Zayn starts to frown—hoping no one sees his annoyance of this tour right now.

"That's okay." Niall laughs. "I want my own bed after seeing this massive one." 

Of course he would. That way, he has his own blanket to steal from himself. Zayn greets their butler, Gregory who's been around ever since Zayn was in diapers. It wasn't too much work to take care of two children, but there was also their Great Bernese Mountain Dog, Daft who felt like another two children. He's somewhere in this house, Zayn should greet him. 

It took Zayn 20 years how to do his own laundry—now he insists Gregory that he does it by himself. What Zayn can't deal with is the folding and he might require Gregory to it for him. He's always been family—they don't require him a lot but to clean around and bring food around. His parents are barely home anyway, so it's really only Waliyha. 

He sits down with his dad at the island counter of the kitchen who's preparing a hot drink before bed. Usually means warm milk or bailey's with warm milk—one of those two.

"Your boyfriend is Kappa?" His dad asks. Zayn laughs because it seems like that's the only thing he knows what to say at this point.

Zayn nods. "He plays golf, tennis, and all kinds of sports. You guys could hit a few rounds at the club." Zayn wonders if his friend Andrew still has that hi-top curls fade. It'd be weird not to see him without it—it's his signature look. 

"I'll see..." His dad pulls out a mug from the microwave. Tonight is warm milk night, no Bailey's.

"Will you guys be really around this time?" Zayn folds his hand over the counter. "Because for three years, you sent us to Bapu's for the Christmas part of the holiday while you were in Spain. Waliyha hasn't had a Christmas day since she was 13 without a real tree in her own home."

The question never intended to be hurtful, but it probably did a number on his dad. The truth never holds back on sparing any feelings. What it used to be—they'd have families over from both sides, presents galore under their massive pine tree, hand-decorated by them, and a massive dinner all cooked by his mother and aunts from his dad's side. His mom's side cooks too but no one wants pasta over lamb but lamb does sound great. Surely, it's not just him or Waliyha that misses old Christmas. His dad comes around his side, throwing an arm around Zayn's shoulder, hand rubs his back.

"Me and your mother will be working until the twenty third." Zayn nods while his dad says, "And we'll be home—here—with you guys. You guys can pick out a new Christmas tree tomorrow if you want."

"Aw, the good ones are probably gone." Zayn groans. But they do have all day to look.

His dad kisses him goodnight, and that's the closest they've ever really been since he was a kid. He misses his dad, a lot—wished he started travelling out for work when Zayn was 18, not 15. 

It was 12 when everyone went off to bed—then there was Niall who wandered right into his room, right on his bed, and right beside Zayn. He's wearing an old, black shirt of his and it looks way better on him than it ever was on him. Including young Zayn's old boxers—they barely hug around his thighs so they look like shorts, and Zayn can bet Niall's not wearing anything under his black boxers. And he really likes it when Niall wears his glasses.

"So..." Niall drags the word, peaking Zayn's curiosity. "You still have your baby blanket?"

"Goddamn it." Zayn hisses, turning away from Niall. It's late, and air flights suck during the winter—too much delays.

His mom must've said a lot for Niall to come in and start off torturing him with his baby blanket. There are too many stories so vivid to his mind—the marker mural, touching a broken socket, running away from their old dog, Billy Jean. He missed it all so much.

"You named it Zayn?" Niall keeps going.

"Yes I did. It was my most favourite thing in the world so I named it after myself." Zayn doesn't even know where it is anymore. It might be in one of the twenty closets in this house.

He could hear Niall's muffled laugh on his shoulder, his breath seeping through his thick duvet. His smile is suppressed by the pressure he puts against Zayn's shoulder—and it brings him so much happiness to have Niall look up at him without worrying about who's watching, what people are going to do. It's just the two of them—nothing else.

"Give me a kiss." Niall asks; his lips move and it feels like tiny kisses on his arm.

Kind enough after the teasing, he turns his body until Zayn can pull him in by the neck, licking right into his mouth to break the seams of his lips. Niall didn't mean a kiss that made him press right down on Zayn's body until his arm wrapped around him while his hand held his face.

"Ah," Niall exhales like he's been refreshed. He buries his face right into Zayn's neck, trying to hide his smile. "You're always so warm. Like a beach."

"Like a bitch?" Zayn huffs. He's about to push Niall away until he realizes he really wants him to stay. It should feel natural because it was with Alex. But now he feels disgusting—he hasn't felt so embarrassed in his own skin for a while and he really means that in a good way. 

It's keeping secrets in the Rho house that's changed him not to be his loving self because he really does know how to love—it seems like everyone forgot that Zayn's capable of finding it. Or maybe, pretending that he wasn't for Rho was how it all came about.

"Yeah, like a bitch." Niall laughs. "You said it. Not me."

"Come under the covers with me." Zayn tells him. 

A tempting invite, Niall already makes his way in, scurrying inside like a little squirrel burying itself inside its tree. He smells like chocolate peppermint—he must've gotten to taste those special Christmas hot chocolate mixes before he did. His mom must've got him some. 

Once Niall slips in, he pulls the duvet over their heads. It reminds Zayn of his old forts he used to build with his little sister. But that wasn't the case—Niall's rolls over on Zayn, still blanketing the duvet over their heads.

"I'm going to trap you in my death fart." Niall blurts out in a hush.

No. No. No. "Niall!" Zayn laughs, trying to punch out. "Please don't. Eggsy used to do that before I banned him from my room."

"If you love me then you gotta embrace every part of me." Niall hums.

"I'm going to cry." Zayn starts to sob without literal tears coming from his eyes. He cups his nose with both hands, squeezing his eyes shut like that's going to stop Niall.

He's laughing like a maniac—Zayn can't tell if he's joking or not. He hasn't release any sort of gas yet so far and he's thankful.

"I'm gonna tell everyone you cried when we come back." Niall rips the blanket off their heads.

"I'm going to tell Louis you lied about your dates just so you could study in the library."

"You can't play me. Because I'm going to tell them you're a sex machine—liked the idea of a sex tape leaking so you could be content of the pity sex you got."

"I actually never did." Zayn laughs. "I got pity sex after he left. Things changed then."

"You still stayed together after he exposed you?" It was no secret that Niall found it stupid. If he really knew what happened, what went on—it wasn't really like that kind of relationship at all. He doesn't really know.

"I loved him. What was I gonna do?" Zayn shrugs. "He said he was going to show me at our 1-year anniversary."

"No one would ever do anything like that without consent."

"Whatever." Zayn shrugs again. "It happened, right? You watched it, the whole campus did." 

His bitter attitude must be stinking up the place. But it was true—the whole campus spread this shit like a wildfire, even professors must have seen it. Adult stores in Portland might have copies if any of them are into little kinky shit like webcam videos and little fresh boy who went all nuts for a man who showed and showered him with attention he never got from anyone else.

And now he's talking to Niall like it's all his fault. 

"Zayn, get it off your chest and tell me." He lowers his voice. "I'm not gonna let you keep this harboured in."

The problem is he doesn't have anything to say that'll fix what happened. But Niall's trying to help him out—he'll give him that.

"It's like—for once, someone loves you and you would do anything for them not to leave you." Zayn reminisces. "Even accept that there's a tape of you guys roaming around. But I hated it so much, I wouldn't go to my classes. Rho's old President Anas let me stay in the house if the dorms were getting a bit too much. I barely slept, barely went out, barely passed first year."

Alex was the best looking man he's seen around the university. When they were out together, they would never stare at Zayn—all their focus was put into Alex whose smile shined like the sun's rays. Why would Zayn ever leave him? Why would Zayn let him walk away without insisting he stay?

"It was like that." Zayn confesses. Giving him the most vague explanation, he expected Niall to push for something more than a sentence because he's really set to talk about this past midnight.

"We can talk about this, you know. I don't want it to be an elephant in your life. If it still bothers you, I'll do my best to listen and help you out." All he does is nod and lays his head on Zayn's shoulder—hair brushing his neck as he rests his arm across his chest.

If Zayn wasn't anxious before.

—

On Monday, they stop by an indoor ice rink, settling at the café where they're able to watch a few people skate from their windows. Niall's cheeks are red as if he's been smacked on and on for being problematic. On the other hand, Zayn's just overwhelmed by the sudden contrast between the chilling cold of the ice and heat.

"Oh god—" Zayn laughs a second before covering his mouth from becoming like the biggest jerk around the city for laughing at some guy's fall.

"Don't laugh!" Hypocritical shit—Niall's laughing as well. "That'll be you in a while." 

"No, Niall." Zayn shakes his head, covering his face. He doesn't like to involve himself in anything active. "It'll be quite a show." Zayn lifts his eyebrows. It's not going to be a good one. His knees will wobble and he'll always try to lean back and gain some balance. It's horrible.

"But your number one fan is dying for one performance." Niall pleads, pouting his lips out as he clasps his hands together.

"If you care a lot about me and my well being, you wouldn't ask of this from me." Zayn puts his palms over the table. "Why couldn't you be easily bribed by sex?" Zayn scoffs playfully. "Like, why don't you ask more of me instead of all these extra things like making a fool of myself on the rink to make you happy?"

"I am and I did for Christmas, and you said 'no, Niall'. But... I can't make fun of you when you're between my thighs." Niall huffs as he looks off to the side. If he does, he's sure he won't get anything. Niall flicks the rolled up straw wrapper at Zayn. "If you don't go, you won't get my present to you for Christmas."

"Well, aren't we both lucky I'm not materialistic?" Zayn bites his gums in amusement.

"I didn't buy it." Niall grins sheepishly. "It's something I made."

"Oh my god," Zayn hisses under his breath. "You videotaped yourself?"

"What—no! Why did you think that?" Niall covers his mouth, suddenly breaking into laughter afterwards. "I don't have the courage to do such a thing and even watch it afterwards because I know how nasty I get it like 'is that really me?'"

"So what is it?"

"Skate first, talk later."

_Fuck._

Zayn tries. That's the most important thing. Also being able to actually move around the rink. He tries for Niall's gift. It's the most exciting thing he's ever heard about that he's able to keep. Niall's laughing from the side is heating his face up. Like the buddhists say: karma.

"Tha'is so filthy, Zayn!" 

"I'm moving though, no?" Zayn clenches his teeth when he felt his weight unbalancing. His arms are flailing, his leg is pushing all the time. There's no stride. It entirely looks like a mess. It would fit if he was some sort of toddler or child but his skating was just insanity.

He skates towards Niall—slipping into his arms as Niall holds him up, laughing like always. His knees are inches above the ice. The struggle just to get back up is hurting his ego very badly. Karma! The Buddhist 

yells in his head.

"Ok, I got you." Niall holds both his arms.

"Let me—" Zayn suddenly tips back before pushing himself onto Niall. "Okay. What'd I say?"

Niall takes a deep breath before bursting into laughter. "You're very fast!" Because he's certainly no Patrick Chan from Canada's olympic skating team.

"So what is it?" Zayn goes straight to the point. He raises his eyebrows, watching Niall's expression.

"Don't worry." Niall sighs happily. "You'll figure it out, babe." He kisses him right away so Zayn can't say anything more but 'okay' and practice his skating because he's much worse than the man he noticed fall on the ice.

Actually, the majority of their time at the rink is Niall holding Zayn's hand through his slow process of skating. They've been constantly overlapped; there should be complaints about them going slower than the little toddlers at the training area. But how could anyone not feel for poor Zayn's skating abilities? Despite the overlaps, Niall continues to hold Zayn's hand and train him this way where he's distracted; not sparing a thought on how he looks and if he falls. He'll only spare them on Niall.

—

Zayn recalls back to moment he first came in. The first thing he noticed was the big ol' 20 feet white christmas tree. Yeah, Zayn can agree a real tree is better than anything else. Their place is decorated floor to ceiling with silver and white accents. Time was put in to do so, but the christmas tree especially, is half-assed.

"Let's see what we can do." Zayn crosses his arms as he, Waliyha, and Niall stare at the tree.

Exciting as Zayn can fake Christmas to be, it is pretty uplifting. Although, this year feels particularly different and less spirited. Never did he think he'd lose the christmas spirit. His ten year old self would give him a good beating for it.

The spirited Christmas party at their neighbours doesn't help either. Everyone's walking around with champagne in their hand, hors d'ouervs in the other—wandering about in the most crowded spaces that they've made a barricade at the exit.

He can see his mum. She's said more words than when she saw Zayn and said, "get ready." Whatever. It doesn't matter. It's a quick party—if he drinks about twelve of these champagne. He'll end up back at home faster than he can tell anyone here, "happy holidays!" Like I care, he'd mention in his mind afterwards.

He won't deny his love for his mom and dad. They're everything he'd want in parents—until work and impressions is involved and all they can do and think about is making friends for better connections, leave him and his sister out of things like they're decorations in the background. It has happened in the past, that's why Zayn is used to it. He could be mad at least.

He was forced to dress for the occasion as well. He didn't want to but there is really no choice around here. What he knows best: wear all-black everything with a suit jacket on top, is what he does best as well, and that was it. Unlike the lad wearing an all white tuxedo, standing out is the last thing Zayn needs.

He's tired of this charade. Sure as hell this isn't what makes him or his family happy. He can't speak for his mum—only his sister who's sitting beside him, playing this Candy Crush game, and Niall's who's still here with Zayn, is having an awful time and he's not holding back on showing it to everyone. Waliyha's very much into her game that she hasn't spoken a lot to Zayn either since they arrived. He doesn't blame her for that. She's already got her distraction and her way not to socialize with anyone that Zayn has to find his as well.

There's salt and pepper shakers and an empty plate.

He shakes it out before he finds that it's taking too long and so he pours it out instead. He thinks of a tree and starts to line the black pepper with a few of the salt as well. He's gotta work on shading anyway. Good to do it with salt and pepper.

He finishes too soon that he's once again back in the same problem as before. He looks around—nothing. His sister hasn't even looked up at all and Niall's falling asleep.

And no one would notice if he left either.

It isn't the first either.

Nearly everyday, his mum has found some type of event to go to—Christmas party, Christmas banquet, Christmas soiree—whatever. He's constructed a plan altogether. In the first half, he, Niall, and his sister stay until it's time where they go someplace else like a café or the mall—wherever they can roam about without having to bullshit anything. When it's thirty minutes before the finish, they go back, fetch the car with their driver to make it seem like they've already been waiting for so long.

It always works. But all in all, Zayn finds the excitement from sneaking away from parties to be with Niall and his sister a momentum. When he comes home, his mood drops and heads to his room where he does nothing but sleep and watch shows with Niall and occasionally his family joins too.

At least in his room, they had left the T.V still. In his mind, they would've gave it to Waliyha but this family can just buy a new one and forget about the old one.

Hhis chin pulls back when he opens his bedside drawer—the first thing he sees is nothing. That's troubling. Zayn can perfectly remember what he stashed in here and it isn't things anyone would want to touch. He won't even ask for it considering the awkwardness it'd bring. Zayn's not planning on using anything anyway. 

—

Niall's never been around L.A. In fact, this might be his first time coming around southwest. It's good to see him light up at everything—9 feet hedges, pools, tennis courts, graffiti under the bridges around southeast L.A.—Niall adores it all. 

In that late afternoon, they went to the country club by the sea—the one his family owns. Niall had a few rounds with Zayn's father. They said terms and planned strategies that Zayn had no understanding of whatsoever, had arguments that left Zayn confused by Niall's caddy. 

His father clearly had something against Niall because he was a Kappa member, but not just any member. He was the VP, speaking with his enemy's father who just happened to be a very promising alumni and donor to the university. A threatening, overwhelming, and intimidating man of power like Zayn's father should have somebody stuttering and cowering. In Niall's case, he snorts and laughs—makes his swing talk for him.

And when Niall gets the first put into the hole, he quirks his eyebrows at Zayn's father.

"Oh, I'm definitely great for your son." Niall grins.

"The hell you are. That put was terribly wrong." His father comes marching towards the hole with his golf club ready to beat Niall with. Argue all day, argue all night—Zayn doesn't have enough patience and will to watch and listen to them argue about the both of them sucking at golf. From the golf cart, Zayn puts the keys in—turning the cart on, and it shut the both of them up.

"Where are you going?" His father asks just as Niall turns towards where everyone's attention is.

"Back inside. It's been two hours and I'm hungry." He's thinking a chorizo flatbread. Not too heavy but not that light either. And it's got all kinds of stuff on it like this green sauce he has no idea what it's made of but he doesn't question it.

"We're just getting started. We were just going to the Avers hole, and I was going to commemorate there that your dad is awful at golf by dancing circles around him."

"I've got years ahead of you. I know every part of this place, I know it's secrets, son." 

"If you're finished arguing over a game that shouldn't even be a sport, I'll be on the poolside." 

"Hey! This is a legendary sport—a sport that all the legendary men and women have played before this place even existed." His dad starts to educate him. Like he cares enough about these legends. There's a reason why none of them have names. He keeps his head over his elbows on the wheels as his dad continues on and on.

"Where's your respect?" Niall scoffs at him.

"First of all, women don't play golf. And I don't mean this in a misogynistic demeanour." Zayn grimaces at both his dad and Niall. "Mom and Waliyha don't even come here to golf because they're smart enough to know golf is a lame game. But when mom does, it's because she loves you oh so much, dad. As far as for me, Niall—I love you but this game is anti-climactic and I'm hungry."

"You complain quite a lot, Zayn." His dad scoffs. "Just make sure you get someone to drive the golf cart back to Avers hole."

"I'll see you later, Zayn." Niall gives him a little mock salute. 

Their version of later means they'll see them in an hour or two after their round of golf which could take longer than forever. Feet kicked up on the poolside lounger, a piña colada on the end of his hand, watching people swim is far more boring than watching his dad and Niall play golf. He's not in the mood to swim. Technically, the mood will come when Niall joins him.

He probably wouldn't want to when he spent his whole entire time here with the two men in his life dissing their favourite sport. He feels like shit, and he should. He has been that he hasn't even eaten yet. Even having this late lunch is something he wants his dad and Niall to be at.

"Wow, look at you, Mr. Hollywood." Niall laughs. He's really working the black polo white shorts, and baseball cap on with golf shoes look. He sits on the edge of the lounger with his backside touching Zayn's hip.

"Did you dance around my dad?" Zayn hands him his drink; Niall would probably enjoy his piña colada. They've got bits of frozen pineapple in the drink. 

Niall shakes his head while he mixes the drink with the straw. "He's really got the upper hand on me."

"So he danced around you? Here's to Christmas, where all we'll hear was your ass sucking in golf." Zayn laughs quietly as Niall joins in; much more smiling than laughing.

"I really like golf, Zayn. I think your dad does too." Zayn might have to recall the times he saw Kappa playing a whole round of mini golf in their front lawn. Niall's looking at him softly, and he can feel his cheeks heat up. "So we'll kindly appreciate if you don't slander our game. It's really fun. If you took the time and effort to play—"

Zayn constantly nods until Niall stops. He hates being put on the spot but he knew it was wrong what he did. "I know it is." 

"You know?" Niall queries, sipping  through the straw.

"I mean, I know it's everything to you and my dad, and I completely made you guys insecure playing it. Stupid of me, I'm sorry." Zayn tells him, his hand patting Niall's idle hand on the lounger. "I like seeing you guys have this vibe when you're playing. I think my dad likes having someone he can play and have a banter with. He's constantly around people sucking up to him. You here doesn't completely suck the life out of him when it would be just me and my sister here."

"You don't mean that."

"I completely do. Waliyha and I just talk to each other. We don't even watch our dad play. Pretty sure we've missed three hole-in-ones." Zayn shrugs.

"Apology accepted, anyway. Glad you understand. I'm certain he'll be lighter on you if you tell him what you said to me." Niall smiles definitely bigger this time.

"Maybe. What did you guys talk about?"

"He asked me if you were behaving, I said sometimes. I don't actually really know." Niall shakes his head, expression in disbelief. "Uh, he asked me about Kappa and how we're doing. Remember the auction? We're going to use the $5,000 for new water filters that we'll be sending to countries that need it."

"You might need more than $5,000."

"Your dad's all for it. He said whatever we need, we talk to you."

"I love the idea, but I'm still in Rho." Zayn tells Niall.

"You hate this feud. I thought you'd help us out."

"I will. For what it's worth, I want to help these people out more than I care about Rho." Zayn's just worried his loyalty would be in question again as it always is. To fund his dad's money on something major as this, would kill Rho's pride. Even when it isn't a competition, it eventually ends up being one. He doesn't want to live that life anymore, and his dad might be teaching him some sort of lesson through all of this. 

"What'd you eat?" Niall licks the taste of pineapple off his lips.

"I was actually waiting for you and my dad." Zayn starts to sit up, setting his feet on the floor.

Niall fixes his cap. "He had people to talk to. I think he's having lunch with them instead." 

Zayn sighs. He's going to get up anyway and still have lunch with Niall. "As always. We'll see him later." 

Niall must have heard the disappointment in Zayn's voice. "He cares about you a lot. He told me to look after you and keep you grounded."

"In what context?"

"That he knows he and your mom have always been absent in your life and Waliyha's. That when they're not around for answers and such, someone you trust and love is here for you."

Sometimes his dad isn't there, then sometimes, his dad ends up being the best friend he really needs in this world to walk him through the turmoils and wars. "My dad must really like you." Zayn picks his shirt off the floor, putting his arms through his button down.

Niall leans in closer, whispering. "Don't tell him that I let him win though."

"Are you kidding me?" Zayn laughs, finding it troubling he cant button his shirt and laugh at the same time. He lets his chest expose, buttoning only the two last buttons on his shirt from the top-down.

"No. I needed him to like me." Niall shrugs carelessly, Zayn bends down for his sandals.

"When he finds out, he's going to hate you and force a legitimate rematch." 

"Then I'll actually beat him for real."

"Could've impressed him this time instead." Zayn slides his foot into his left sandal.

"Should be impressed I could hold his stubborn son down." 

"Why would he be impressed by that! He knows whoever is worth my time can hold me down."

"Are you saying I'm worth your time?"

"If I say no?"

"I still know the truth.

—

Zayn likes to call the pool house his dream home. It has everything he wants and all the merrier, he gets his alone time there because everyone knows that he claims the pool house. He calls it the Shack. It's the name of his rock-influenced pub. Closing hours: never. Away from the pub, he's got this entire couch sofa that's actually an entire bed they can relax on with the arm rest wrapping around three sides and his home theatre T.V where he's got his playstation 4 plugged in and surround sound, a small kitchen and washroom. He wonders why he's up in his boring room, not enjoying the moments of his life in the Shack.

Zayn mixes a few drinks for him and Niall who's sitting at the counter of the bar, trying to hit on the bartender.

"What time do you get off?" Niall asks. The batting of his eyes, the smirk on his face while he plays with the straw of his orange drink—Zayn might make exceptions to the closing hours.

"Never." He tells him. He's a hardworking man with a lot of stamina. Unless he's running. 

"Not even for the lonesome man here who's spending Christmas all by himself in your bar?" Niall pouts.

"You could go to the Triangle club down the street." Zayn points ahead.

"You fucking suck." Niall breaks out of character just to burst into laughter.

"I'm being realistic!" Zayn argues. "I don't know why you're laughing."

His laughing dies down eventually. "I'm gonna go play a round on Black Ops III." Niall takes a swig from his drink before he crawls over to the bed with the controller on.

Fine then. Zayn has to restock and clean the bar anyway. There isn't a lot of rum around—that's a problem. He'll have to talk to Gregory about the run shortage.

All in all, with Reggae and RnB music playing in the background, Niall sat on his bed—probably with his butt sitting on his pillow—the Shack is pretty laid back. He had a few people in here before when he was in high school. They all got kicked out for trashing his humble abode. No such thing as respect with them.

The mood is still there; without the lonely stranger act Niall has, he admires him just the way he is—cursing in the fifth level of Black Ops, legs sprawled like the lazy bastard he is, his messy bed-head hair he never bothered to fix when they went out—and the fucking glasses. Since when did he ever wear these things?

Zayn's creeping up beside him, licks his lips before he kisses Niall's neck and Niall can't do anything about it to stop him. So Niall continues to play and Zayn continues to suck on his neck until he's making noises, until his neck is bruised. He's like a peach—a soft little sensitive thing so he moves behind his ear, kissing the spot before his tongue presses down.

"I'm going to kill you." Niall sighs defeatedly, but he continues to play, and Zayn continues to tease, his smile brushing against his skin. The second bruise is softer than the first and Zayn's already had enough—he's teasing his hands over Niall's sweats, rubbing his growing dick through the clad of his soft-grey sweats.

"Talk me through it." Zayn tells him. It's hotter that way—he doesn't like the fact he's about to do this and there are zombies roaring in the background. Doesn't care how ridiculous Niall will sound—dirtier the better, than he can make his way into the bathroom—work himself out afterwards.

"You're a tease, huh?" Niall lets go of the controller for one second to put his hand through his hair. Zayn's too busy to answer, too preoccupied kissing Niall's exposed belly. His hands go back around the controller, clicking close to Zayn's ear. 

"Got me so hard for you already." Niall realizes just how thick his dick is through the outline of his sweats as Zayn lazily strokes him, his hand pressing down back and forth—back to his groin and up to his thigh. 

"Maybe, I'll do the talking." Zayn laughs. As much as Niall's trying, he's focused on making three things happen so it means he's distracted. That's better for him anyway.

He kisses Niall's tummy one last time before he flicks his tongue off the bulge. Niall's hip twitches so he must've felt the heat through his sweats.

"Hm," Zayn hums, pressing sweet kisses over the bulge. His dick is pressed on the left thigh, probably suffocating in the heat and hoping to get out any minute. 

"You like it when I touch you?" Zayn's fingers rub his shaft. It twitches through and Zayn's licks his lips. Niall nods, biting his own lips down.

To relieve him, he pulls his sweats down just enough for his cock to slip out and fit in Zayn's hand. It's too dry for him to do anything so he spits on his dick, and Niall suddenly fixes the way he sits. His hand wraps around the head, sliding the grip down around the shaft so it's just as wet.

Zayn takes his mouth around the head of his cock, sucking softly. He pulls up and pushes down, nothing faster than a 60 beat on a metronome. He's careful and consistent—won't surprise Niall like that. Until later.

"You fucking shit." Niall moans the exact same time Zayn pulls his head with his mouth before it pops out from his mouth, slicked up with Zayn's spit. 

"I'm going to swallow you whole, babe." Zayn licks around the root, sliding his lips against the underside before his mouth pops off his dick again. "I'm gonna make you feel so damn good." He promises through the thickness and roughness of his voice, licks his lips up to top it all off.

Zayn's mouth is back around him and he spends the whole entire time, keeping his fast pace smooth. There aren't any baby stops or jerks from Zayn's head—he bobs on his dick the cleanest way possible, even when the head of his dick is at his throat. 

Zayn doesn't know Niall's left the game already. He doesn't even notice the hands gripping in his hair, the dirty moans falling out of Niall's mouth to the wet sounds of Zayn sucking and licking him entirely. If his cheekbones weren't sharp before, this time truly bites the cake with his cheeks hollowed in before Niall sees his dick against his cheeks, filling Zayn's mouth up.

He does all sorts of things with his mouth—all sorts of pulling and sucking and licking, so different and versatile, and it all comes together as beautiful things Niall never thought he'd like.

"I thought you had other things to focus on, babe." Zayn laughs breathlessly. He suck his head, swivelling his tongue on every kind of spot he can cover while he sucks him out. 

Niall grumbles. His voice is rough and so deep. "I'm going to come on your face, keep talking like that, you shit." Niall exhales at the end when Zayn pushes his head down, face buried in Niall's lap.

He hums when he pulls up, vibrations stronger around his head. "Ah, you're an aggressive one, aren't you?" Zayn's lips are glistening with spit and come and it's a beautiful sight. Niall really could come on it all.

"Doesn't like when he's not in control." Zayn looks up at him—too threatening, too fucking hot. "Doesn't like it when he's the one being teased. Wants everything one's got, and I'll be happily to give you everything I've got, my love."

_My love?_ God, Zayn can't say things like that—make innocent and romantic words sound so dirty and rich. Niall pushes him back down around his cock, a quick whimper that he whispers an apology too before he gets it around his head that this'll shut Zayn up. 

But he isn't playing nice this time. His wrist is around the base, twisting and wringing the croaks out of his throat, loud wet sucking noises—not loud enough for Zayn's whimpering to penetrate through. Everything is getting louder and faster, everything becoming tighter like a snake around its prey.

"God, I'm about to fucking come." Niall groans from within his chest, closing his eyes half shut. He wants this to end like he's descended up to the heavens, but he wants to see hell through Zayn's eyes as his curling eyelashes flutter, desperate for eye contact. His face must be flushed red; it's even more satisfying to see Zayn burning red. He's really coming good tonight.

A high pitch whimper this time, with a loud grunt from Niall means Zayn's taking it all in. It accidentally drips from his mouth when he pulls back for an abrupt second—a delicious sight to see from someone who deserves it all over his face. But through the strokes of Niall's hand in his hair—he'll want him to swallow him slowly, taste everything he's got. Healthy eating is paying off.

When Zayn's got it all down, Niall asks, "Kiss me." Zayn wipes his mouth even though he doesn't have to, and licks right into his mouth. Niall wraps his arms around him, letting this one moment where they're catching their heartbeat's pace back linger because Niall hasn't taken a proper breath in ten minutes.

"Shit, I just want to fuck you now." Niall exhales. "Think you're actually so brave talking like that."

"You have to wait a week."

"Why?" Niall glares.

"I'm putting you on sex-strike."

"What is that?"

"Since you think you'll get everything you want, I'm going to show you you don't."

"You're the one who said it! Not me." Niall laughs in despair.

"It's true, isn't it?" Zayn reaches of the second controller on the table. He sits back beside Niall.

"Yes, but—" Niall's jaw is left open. He closes it, knowing he's not going to ever win this one so he accepts his controller back from Zayn.

"Let's play, my love." Zayn grins.

—

Christmas spirit has left him dry since he was in his last year of high school. Nevertheless, he's going to try and get past being bitter this Christmas. He can't ruin everything for everyone.

He wears the ugly Christmas sweater that he wears every year before heading down through the large foyer where the fake tree stands and the their real tree with presents surround the real tree's base. Most of them would be for his sister. Not that he's complaining. 

In the living room, he didn't expect his dad to be there at all. He grimaces with a smirk on his face when he notices his dad in his sleep clothes and a cereal bowl in his hands, sleeping in front of the T.V. It's all brand new to him.

Then in the kitchen, his mum is cooking some grilled cheese. Great! And it isn't the fake processed cheese his stupid brothers use.

They exchange the Christmas greetings, and it's an awkward one at that with the hug and all. Zayn sits down, and really, it only seems like they're the only ones awake.

"What's for lunch then?" Zayn starts. 

Her eyes widen before she gives a sorry look to Zayn. "I've got no clue. I didn't buy a turkey but I know no one likes that so it's not turkey."

"Just keep it with a taste." Zayn quirks an eyebrow up. "I'm tired of the bland dinners we've been eating." Zayn means the banquet dinners. Jesus christ, you'd think every party would have a different meal. But no, something about turkey, stuffing, and cranberry drives them to serve that.

"Masala or Thai curry..." She blurts out.

"Both."

"Zayn!" She scolds. "I don't have eight arms."

"Yeah, you have two. Your left for Masala and your right for curry." Zayn shrugs. "How's that hard?"

"And I assume you'd want your samosas as well..."

Zayn grins. "Growing boy."

"Your body better grow." She grates her words, opening cabinets already. "How is Niall?" She asks.

"He's great. He's sleeping right now, I think." Zayn shrugs. He was up all night drinking the Shack's booze away.

"And your sister?" His mother puts a cup of tea down for him. Zayn has not one clue what she's up to in the night. It probably has something to do with her stupid driver's permit now. Zayn doesn't say word about her sneaking out—he should. After all the times he came home late from the movies and his sister would start everyone morning with, he came home at 1AM!

"Sleeping." Zayn sips the cups.

"Who would've thought you were the one to wake up first?" She starts to laugh. "Where's Daft?"

"I haven't seen him!" Zayn sounds like he's whining but it's true. He misses Daft running around him, whinging to be pet. Ever since he's come home, he has seen him only once which was when Gregory was taking him out for a walk.

"He needs to eat. Gregory said he hasn't eaten in two days." 

"What's wrong with him?" Zayn looks at his dinner bowl. There's still a full bowl of kibble. On the other hand, the water bowl is half full.

"I presume it has something to do with the vaccination he got for rabies and leptospirosis again."

"I'll look for him."

Zayn knows his favourite places to wander and cuddle. One of them is the pool house but he hasn't been there when Zayn has. He could be with his sister but she doesn't allow him in her room, so it's the last spot.

Sometimes he likes attention, sometimes he doesn't. Often it's never in the guest room across from his room—but that's where Niall is. Sneaking in shouldn't prove to be a problem; he can hear him snoring and with the way he's sleeping on his stomach, he isn't planning to wake up anytime soon.

He cracks open the door to the closet where Daft is lying by the door, looks up at Zayn while he quietly whines. Daft is a massive dog who probably holds about 180 pounds under all the fur. People think he's a monster—when he's really just a big bear who loves to be cuddled and petted. When he was younger, he would be able to hide under the bed—now he's probably able to lift it.

"Hey boy." Zayn pats his knee. Daft starts to stand up, his tail wagging. "I'm home!"

He really shouldn't be doing this while Niall's sleeping behind him. He can't just be sitting in a closet petting Daft. He pulls him out by his collar, quietly cooing him that it's okay. They make it at least out the door before Daft starts to jump on Zayn's knee and he wasn't ready to take on a beast like Daft.

He hugs him and his arm can barely even make it around his neck. Daft nuzzles him through it all and Zayn's just so happy he's doing well.

"Daft! No!" The dog jogs to the bed, and Zayn immediately thinks he's done for. 

Daft looks like a beast compared to Niall who's lying in bed, half-drunk and probably regretting it in his dreams. So when he jumps on the bed, landing his foot on Niall's butt—Zayn gasps.

"Ah, what the fuck..." Niall groans. He barely turns but it's just enough for Niall to shout, "shit! It's a bear!" He starts to squirm and Daft is barking really fucking loud in Niall's ear who's groaning off the bed, holding his ears.

"Zaayn!" Niall grunts, hopping on each feet like Daft pissed on him or something. All he did was drop 160 pounds on Niall. That's not a lot at all. 

"Down boy!" Zayn clicks his tongue. Of course, he'd listen and of course, he'd go straight to Niall who's pulling the bedroom door open. All Zayn sees is a blur. By now he's probably sprinting to the Shack and locking himself in where there's a bed so he could go back to sleep while Daft whines outside.

Or not. Niall isn't anywhere to be found upstairs until he gives up and goes back to his tea, does he notice he's downstairs in the kitchen, standing behind the counter with a grilled cheese his mom made and a tall glass of water. Surprisingly, he's in the same room as he is—more importantly, Daft is finally eating.

"Happy holidays!" Zayn laughs nervously. If only he had a noise maker to blow through. 

"Ugh," Niall grimaces at him, the sandwich crunching in his mouth. "Happy holidays to you too, babe."

"When you left, I lost a part of me." Zayn sat back at his seat.

"Really?" Niall glares at him. Because it wasn't like he did it intentionally. A big ass dog was chasing after him.

"Because all I want for Christmas is you." Zayn raises a brow.

"Do you know her discography or something?" Niall asks.

"Zayn's a big Mariah Carey fan. Didn't you know that?" His mom cuts in with a devious smile Niall probably mistakes for kindness.

Niall gasps. "Really?"

"She's lying!" Zayn feels so insulted. "It's dad." Who was still on the couch.

"Your dad has good music taste."

"Oh yeah." Zayn has to agree with that. 

His mom suddenly shoves him and Niall a chopping board with knives for the both of them. They're stuck helping her out for lunch and there won't be any way to get away from it. Niall gets the meat to cut and season and while Zayn gets the three different types of vegetables to cut. Zayn nearly cuts his fingers off when he stares at Niall and his mom chatting about music.

Zayn hasn't felt this happy on Christmas day since eight years ago when Zayn got the pool house to enjoy his privacy in. Especially, Niall was giving his mom something to do which is to teach him how to cook well. Niall was hesitant with the salt and spices but his mom was the one who poured the salt in his hands, so everything in his palm was for him to put into the thai curry. 

And he tuned back into the conversation where they're chatting about the music they grew up listening to. He has his dad to thank for influencing him with the music that he listens to. Without it, he would probably be a boring nut.

Lunch was great. With the help of four extra hands and occasionally another two from his dad, his mon got everything finished—from the samosas to the chocolate cake topped with smooth chocolate icing and little skor nuggets sprinkled on top, it was a filling meal altogether—and Niall nearly finished everything. It was the alcohol from last night that got him hungry—also the great flavours of the food because he did make it after all.  

They got to the presents later that day and Zayn suddenly wasn't feeling all that great when Niall had only gotten one from under the tree.

"Zayn, you didn't get him anything?" Waliyha whispers.

"You idiot, of course I did." Zayn frowns. The problem is, they're all back in Portland.

Niall unwrapped the present which was a very cool jacket from Adidas. It's white with floral pink designs and black cuffs and zippers—very exclusive apparently, not even out in stores yet. That is what's cool about Zayn's mom working in the fashion industry.

For a present, Zayn receives a vinyl player and the one record that he remembers he and his dad listened to so many times when it was the old days. Glad to know his parents still actually think of them, and Zayn thinks of them too—which is why he gets them a trip to Hawaii for the weekend with Waliyha's name attached to the gift.

It's almost even when Zayn doesn't get anything from Niall either. And he's not in the least bit disappointed at all. Or that's what he thought, and he's back to being disappointed in himself.

Niall's video plays through the projection of the Shack. Zayn doesn't remember being videoed by Niall but he's on the screen so he must have been.

_"This is Zayn. Say Hi."_ There's shuffling through the change of direction when Niall turns the camera to Zayn.

There's a scowl from Zayn's face before the screen turns black and all anyone can hear is, _"Do you mind focusing on your midterm?"_

_"You're one to talk!"_

The video cuts to another scene at the library—another rare day where they worked on their midterm together.

_"It has only been six minutes,"_ Niall whispers, camera focused aimlessly at his eye. _"But he actually fell asleep."_ Niall turns the camera at Zayn. He snickers through the clip of Zayn wearing his sunglasses, his hand doing nothing but holding a pencil—nothing at all.

Another cut; they're at O'Den's with Leigh. She's the one holding the camera since it explains Niall sitting upright and perfectly beside Zayn, nodding his head left and right to the music mouth moving even if he can't hear the lyrics properly at all. 

_"Look up. I want a pic."_

Zayn for one, can't sit still when he he can hear music properly because he'll sing and do a jig in his seat. He does look up, grinning at what seems to be not her phone. Niall's got this subtle smirk on, and they've been holding it longer than expected. The corner of Zayn's lips were cramping.

_"What are you doing with Niall's phone?"_ Zayn asks Leigh, holding the camera towards him. Before she can answer, Zayn starts to make the pitched noises in the chorus of Justin Bieber's Sorry.

_"It's a video, bitch."_ Leigh laughs at him.

His face quickly turns deadpan before he hides his face in his elbows on the table. Niall starts to laugh, patting Zayn's shoulder.

Third cut; it's at the charity Christmas Banquet. It's at the washroom—this one already has Zayn groaning and Niall laughing even louder. The video is of Niall, holding it just about enough to see  Zayn behind him. He's standing at the mirrors.

_"I can see it in your eyes you're angry,"_ Zayn starts to sing dramatically; his eyes scowling at himself in the mirror. _"... Mad 'cause he ain't like me?"_ He holds a hand over his chest. _"Oh, you made 'cause nobody did it ever like me?"_ Zayn scoffs. 

The camera starts to rustle but Zayn doesn't notice yet. Outside from the video, he's watching with one eye while the other half of his face is hiding in Niall's shoulder.

_"Okaaaay! Look I'm honest, girl, I can't lie, I miss you, you and the music were the only things that I commit to..."_ Zayn holds the last word longer while he fixes the rolled sleeves of his shirt.

_"I can tell that you've been cryin' all night, drinking all summer, prayin 'for your happiness, hope that you recover—awh!"_

The second Zayn turns to sing to Niall, his eyes blow out, and he's shouting, _"Are you fucking kidding me?"_ Zayn pulls him by his shoulder.

_"I'm sorry!"_ Niall laughs, trying to keep it directed towards Zayn.

_"You always do this."_ Zayn groans, walking right into a stall. 

Zayn's been vulnerable way too many times. He's realizing now it's a whole entire compilation of Zayn's reactions when he finds out he's being filmed. He must've not paid attention at all for Niall to get at least a total 3 minute footage of clips on Zayn singing, dozing—doing anything that doesn't require Niall's attention until the last second. The clips of him sleeping, he can't do anything about.

The last seconds of this video; they're in Leigh's in house on the couch, cuddled together. Zayn's not paying too much attention to Niall's movements compared to the movie playing on the T.V. Not even Niall's arm stretching just enough not to be suspected while he holds his phone above them.

_"Love you."_ Niall makes a disgusted face.

_"Okay."_ Zayn just grumbles.

_"Love you."_ Niall says again, thumb playing with his bottom lip.

_"Alright."_ Zayn says sternly.

_"I love youu!"_ Niall shouts and Zayn hunches away completely.

_"Someone's about to get shot!"_ Zayn scoffs at the TV. 

_"I give them my love too."_ Then there's a gunshot. _"Never mind. I still love you."_

Zayn starts to shift. _"What are you—oh my god."_ He finds himself on the screen of his phone, and he turns right back to the T.V. screen.

_"Say you love me or I'm going to keep this going."_ Niall grins.

Zayn groans, turning his body until he's pressing his chest against Niall's side. _"I love you too."_ He sighs with a tight smile.

_"Kiss me?"_ Niall asks quietly.

_"Turn that shit off first."_ Zayn covers the side of his face. Niall almost forgot that the video was on for a second. 

The video ends, and Zayn's groaning into Niall's lap. At least Niall had a good laugh through it all. He's gotta admit, he really does like the video—even when the entirety of it all was him embarrassing himself in some way. Now he knows how he looks sleeping sitting upright, pretending to be awake—not convincing.

He wants to hate Niall—it felt like his whole entire life flashed before his eyes and that was only 3 minutes of him trying to avoid the video. 

But then that's what he said love was in the first place, and he still wants to be around Niall and his stupid habit of trying to embarrass him all for the sake of getting a laugh between them two.

Zayn tells him he hates him the same time he pulls him in for a kiss, and all he can think about is _sexsexsex_ with this idiot. Even after he put him on a sex-strike

By the reach of Niall's shirt being pulled over his head, it was obvious. 

"You didn't get me anything, did you?" Niall laughs, licking in Zayn's mouth.

"I did. I swear." Zayn moves to Niall's neck, mouth sucking on his skin. "All back in your room in Portland."

"All?" Niall asks confused.

"Few necessities." Zayn presses a wet kiss on a new spot.

"Actually wanted a pinball machine in my room." Niall laughs.

"Really? Louis said you didn't—"

"I'm kidding. Come on, get this shit off." Niall pulls on Zayn's sweater.

There's a bang against the window Zayn looks to, and it's Daft pawing at the glass.

Niall gasps. "No! Don't let him in."

Zayn starts to make his way off the bed, "Niall, Daft is harmless. He's cool so he's coming in." 

"I'm being cocked blocked by a dog." Niall sighs, and his eyes get even bigger when Daft jumps on the bed, lying down over Niall's legs. "He's 200 pounds! This is a dog? It's a fucking a bear."

"Daft, don't listen. I love you, okay?" Zayn pets his head. "Niall, he'll like it if you'd hug him."

"Oh my god." Niall groans.

"There's tension between you two. And all he wants is to be your friend," Zayn smiles at Daft. "But you keep turning him away." 

"I'm actually not a fan of dogs." Niall admits.

"Why are we dating then?" Zayn huffs. "Come on, Daft. I'll play with you." He pats his thighs until Daft jumps off the bed, following him outside to the pool.

Despite being cockblocked by Zayn's pet bear, Niall joined them outside where they spent half an hour making sure Daft is moving around for his sake. Him being down and inactive since his shots is still what Zayn has in mind. In no way is he going to let his dog just sit around in a closet. 

Zayn throws the ball Niall's way. He likes it when Niall tries to make an out for it and sprint away from Dash. He's a really sweet dog, nothing to be afraid of. One time, they brought him up to go skiing, Waliyha pretended that she was suffocating and buried under the snow and Daft came charging for her, whimpered constantly when he found her and started nudging her head towards her.

This time Niall couldn't maneuver his way out of Daft's charging direction.

"Niall!" Zayn bursts in laughter when he saw Niall in the air above the pool, shouting something in Irish Gaelic before he fell in. He had his sweats on and a grimace on his face as he glared at Daft running back to Zayn with the ball.

He starts to slam his arms like a child who doesn't get his way. Zayn tries to block the splashing. "The worst! He's absolutely the worst!" He pushes his hair back from his face.

"What's going on?" Waliyha comes outside, and starts off laughing as soon as she sees Niall in the pool.

"How's the water?" Zayn crouches down, crossing his arms over his knees.

"Don't you dare talk to me like that." Niall chortles, shaking his head at him.

"It's a little funny." Zayn nods at him.

"You're so sure." Niall scoffs, pulling Zayn in by his arms into the pool. And there he goes. Waliyha's snorting at Zayn, letting her laugh play long enough Zayn can hear it and let it ruin his ego before she goes back inside.

"I hate you." Zayn makes a face at his wet sweater. His legs feel terribly heavy because of the black jeans he has on. There goes its colour. He just bought them too.

"Oh, don't be dramatic." Niall wipes the hair sticking onto Zayn's face. "A little water won't harm anyone. Unless you're a witch."

"I'm not a witch." Zayn retaliates, scowling at Niall.

No one was in the mood to swim as much as it felt great being in a cold pool under heat Niall can't ever get used to in December.

It's complicated when they're soaking wet and Zayn says they can't go in until their clothes are off and in the laundry. Niall doesn't have anything on under his sweats—that's his main issue, and Zayn wants him to take his clothes off? Please, the last thing he needs is Zayn's family seeing is his arse cheeks.

Zayn kept his briefs on, squeezed the excess water before walking inside for a towel Niall can use. Taking off jeans with wet skin is stress itself. Add wet jeans with wet skin, and it feels like your skin is peeling off.

Niall wrapped the towel around his waist before kicking his sweats off. So many drops of water as he tried to writhe them dry. Zayn put everything in the laundry, with his briefs off to wash as well. He falls on his bed, letting out a deep breath into the bundle of blanket pressing against his face.

"Look at what I got." Niall says, and Zayn rolls until he's on his back, sitting up on his elbows. There's a familiar flower between Niall's fingers above their heads.

"Is that my mom's orange orchid?" A smile starts to form on Zayn's face. It reminds Zayn of tropical islands and the colour of their mangoes. It has deep orange colours around the edges of the petals with a bright yellow centre. He likes the bright, red veins trailing closer to the middle over the yellow.

"No, it's a Californian mistletoe." Niall tells him. 

"There's no such thing." Zayn laughs, still looking at the very warm orange.

That is evidently not the point. "Am I getting a kiss though?"

Zayn shrugs first, then holds Niall's face. He starts to lower to flower, not exactly knowing where an ideal place is to put such a delicate flower. 

"Possibly more than that." Zayn leans in, fitting his lips in between while Niall shifts until he's got one leg between Zayn's, their chest closing the space between them. Zayn bends his leg back until Zayn's thigh is pressing right between the cleft of Niall's bum.

"Sorry." Zayn laughs quietly under his breath, pushing Niall closer to his face. There's no space between their lips, even when they part or change angles. Zayn keeps it soft like the petals he imagines if he took a second to thumb the delicate plant. His lips between his feels so right; especially when he parts his lips bigger and Zayn sucks a short breath and slots his lips in, barely pushing, just enough tongue that it isn't sloppy or rough.

"For what?" Niall's fingers push back a strand of hair that curled over his cheekbone; the two part their lips until Niall tilts his head back straight, letting the faint and softness of Zayn's lifts slot between his.

"I don't know." Zayn accidentally smiles right away; Niall catching his teeth to kiss.

"Are you alright to do it? Could say no anytime." Niall thumbs Zayn's lips the same time they kiss again, the fingers in his hair combing through, his whole palm pressed behind Niall's head. "Could say make love or fuck. You're making the call."

"Let's make love. I'm in a good mood." Zayn tries to wrap his arms around Niall's back, still keeping his hand in his hair.

"I-I don't know the difference because I'm so in love with you. It all feels so good to me." He exhales. Niall starts off moving his hips, and the leg between Zayn's legs—it presses right onto his dick.

There's pressure in their kisses that make a soft smack each time the pull apart, a long press between their lips Niall narrows his eyebrows into and hips swivel even more against Zayn's thigh and torso.

No matter what weather it is in California, it's always hot, and Zayn's back will always start to sweat. Niall gets his hand around Zayn's dick, tugging him full and breathless because Niall just likes torturing him like that. He keeps it moderate, away from a tight grip that would have Zayn panting like a dog. He can feel his breath over his lips, feel his heartbeat begin to race. 

It's hard for Niall to figure out what the difference is between a simple fuck and the real thing until Zayn tries to get his hand Niall's dick him work him hard out too. Now he's the one breathing into Zayn's mouth, his forehead starting to sweat, his face flushed hot for god knows why. 

He hasn't had so much experience between the two to tell. Easy for Zayn, he got to fuck more that he knows what the real difference is for him—what makes this count and not the same as the rest of the times he spent under bodies. But unlike Zayn, Niall was never in his position. Everything just felt casually easy and fun, it's all whatever from there. It was always payback and maybe that's what the difference is for him. That this isn't to payback Zayn for this and that. Even when Zayn blew him off amidst his video game, it wasn't to make up for the time Niall blew him on Leigh's sofa. He just did it—they both did it without anything in return. 

When he finally realized it, he pushed his lips harder on Zayn, their noses awkwardly pressing.

"Got a lubricant?" Niall sounded extremely excited. 

"I think?" Zayn chuckles, trying to shift under Niall. The cool thing about his couch sofa bed is that there are shelves and drawers around it. Zayn's not sure which one has his things but he pulls out each one. There's remotes in one, stupid pencils and notebooks, his ingredient book for his bar, and then there's just this bottle and Zayn assumes it is when he tosses it at Niall.

"You're a green apple kind of guy? That's kind of hot." Niall starts to read the label. It must be new considering Niall's unwrapping the tape around the cap.

"It was the only one that looked appealing. Can you just do what you were supposed to do?" Zayn huffs, resting on his side with his arm holding up his head as he watches Niall flip the bottle upside down like he's never seen anything like it before from the mirror across them. He was even more ready than Niall and he had no clue what they're going to be doing.

But Niall pressed right behind him, turned Zayn's face so they could kiss again, bodies together, his dick rubbing on Zayn's ass. He would hold the curve of Zayn's hips if his hand didn't start doing what it needs to be doing at this point in time. He'd apologize if he really cared; all he was feeling was anxiety but he'd get over it pretty soon.

Zayn breathes out as soon as Niall's two fingers pressed over his asshole, letting the slick of his fingers smear thick all around. It was a good, long sigh that he needed something good and Niall was there to give. Maybe it was too good the way Zayn's head fell off from his hand, let his arm hug over his head. It made it easier for Niall to get closer, press his face onto the crook of Zayn's neck, his hands separating his legs by the back of his thighs. He links his arm around the one Zayn's holding his head with, finally tracing his hand over his body.

His teeth graze his neck as he mouth his skin. At the same time, his fingers easily slip in, and Zayn starts to tense up to his touch. Every time he curls his fingers back, Zayn quietly grunts and grips his hair. His intention was focused on getting him lubricated, press his fingers right against his rim. Then he's thinking that there's a lot to what he'd do now if he spends these extra minutes on Zayn rubbing his muscles, feeling his rim tighten around his knuckle.

"I like this a lot." Zayn groans, spreading his leg wide, swivelling his hips for Niall to get an easier access. He rubs the small bud that makes the pretty moaning coherent and louder, sucking his skin more as his two fingers stroke it around.

"You like this?" Niall wants to hear his answer or feel his head nod against his as he whispers into his ear. Just to make sure—Niall presses his two fingers right down his sweet spot, just to see if that's what he really likes. Or the way his fingers rub the soft muscles of his walls. Maybe both. 

"Ohh, right there!" No, it's definitely playing with his over-sensitive sport. 

Zayn curls in, nearly forcing his torso to twist so he could lie on his stomach the longer Niall's fingers prod and tease him. He can feel the way Zayn's pushing his hips down on the bed, probably pressing the throbbing of his dick to go away.

"You want to feel something else that would make your body stutter?" Niall's voice is pressed right against his ear. His hand is working on getting a dollop of lubricant. He could only seem to get it over his palm, rather his fingers which he'd be happier with.

"Is it you?" Zayn's practically laughing if his face wasn't hidden and his eyes shut like he's in paradise right now. 

"Of course it is." Niall's not lying there. But he starts off pressing his lips on Zayn's shoulder, dragging his lips down—a continuous and messy trail of kisses going down his back. Sliding down around to the foot of the bed, Zayn finally takes his arm off over his head, using it to prompt him up just to see what Niall's up to.

"Wow." He whispers, watching Niall over his shoulders, letting his elbow prompt his hand holding his head again. Niall's waiting for him to change his mind and relax again. His eyes aren't judgemental but they're damn well intimidating. They're the epitome of lust—like that stare is all anyone should desire if they want to taste the sinful life of excitement.

Supposedly, Niall takes it as encouragement, looking down at his lips pressing and kissing the next spot down the small of his back. Just at the starting curve of his bum, he presses a kiss there, then right on the face of his cheek, then right on his hole. He's practically licking and mouthing over him without some sort of thought, and he's really enjoying himself as much as he is doing this for Zayn. There's the sharp flavour of apple on his tongue that makes his mouth water, drives him to poke his tongue right through his hole but Zayn's so unnecessarily tight. Niall keeps his mouth dead over his hole, wiggling and flicking his tongue until he'd open just a bit for Niall. He doesn't have to all the way.

Zayn groans out loud, sucking his lip until its cherry red. His nipples are hardening, his skin is literally standing. He takes a deep breath in from his mouth until it turn into a blissful smile. He bites his bottom lip—Niall not sure if it's a smirk or a smile. But he says, "I love you." Between his chuckling before he's rolling on his stomach.

Niall makes his thighs burn on fire, turns everything from great to the best, makes his fingers curl around the blanket under. He makes him go crazy and speechless as he eats him out with so much variety and technique. He likes it best when Niall's lips are sucking and kiss right over while he's got his thumb opening his asshole. It isn't too much, but it'll definitely take Zayn to that special happy place. 

"Ah, Niall—" Zayn gasps softly, his knee prompting just inches off the bed, lifting his hips up to the hot mouth watering for him. Yeah, he can feel his even wetter mouth while he tongues just right around his rim. "I really want you—t'make love to me." Turning his torso to look back, his fingers skim Niall's cheek, and that's when he pulls away.

Zayn rolls until he's on his back again, and right away Niall's back on top between his legs. It was a perfect fit between a short moment of lips between lips, Niall's tongue tracing the mouth he's kissing that felt so long. With arms around his neck and back, Zayn wanted it to last longer. To him, kissing someone on and on is certainly something anyone could do and he'll take every bit of what they got, no matter how basic it is—ignoring the concept of having something better done that could bring this to a close in fifteen minutes.

He's crazy for Niall. Sometimes, he'd say things that he wouldn't around anybody else. In his opinion, 'make love' is the cheesiest thing he's heard anyone say. But he'll say it because that's just what he wants and Niall makes no comment of it whatsoever—he'll continue to hold Zayn's face and kiss him slowly and tightly, keep the same pace going without letting their lips get so far apart from each other.

Zayn wished he's used to the feeling of someone entering him. To think after having so many people with one who kept coming back, he can handle Niall pressing his evenly slicked dick inside of him without body parts tightening and muscles clenching. His legs bend back, his right leg wrapping around his back.

"You alright?" Niall's breathless when he asks by Zayn's ear, pressing a kiss on his neck. Without moving his hips back, Niall pushes his hips back and forth while fighting the urge to just pull back an inch or more and make him feel it all over again.

"Of course I am." Zayn tries to laugh but it turns into a long sigh. He embraces Niall tighter with his arms around his back. His hand presses on Niall's nape, letting his face rest in the crook of his neck. Niall doesn't start so fast; he's really slow, just grinding his hips in, their skin barely leaving each other.

"What if I lavaliere you?" Niall asks.

"Hm," Zayn heavily sighs, even his stomach deflates. Niall doesn't realize that he's actually grown inches apart their skin, and he's carefully thrusting Zayn in. His body is too sensitive, and he starts to groan quietly instead of giving an answer. It's somewhere on his tongue if he isn't busy getting bucked and grind on at the same time.

"The necklace is pretty tacky. Could resort to a bracelet." Niall sneaks his hand down over Zayn's ass, fingers pressing down on his skin.

"Course I'll wear your letters." Zayn pulls Niall from his neck to his face, slotting their lips together again. The necklaces do suck—he'll go with the bracelet offer. 

From kissing, it slowly moved it way to laughing. Zayn's not sure why they're laughing together but it's exactly what's happening. Sometimes, Zayn's arms reach over his head while Niall pounds his hips in, his hand pressed against the armrest of the couch sofa bed. And he'll go from laughing to moaning with a beautiful pained face, mouth dropped open. It doesn't get any better, Niall just thinks rapidly snapping his hips in, literally fucking his hole raw with a strong force from his hip rocking him up him would make great solutions to a lot of things. He's holding Niall's face but his hands let go and his arms fall back on the bed, his head turning to his right with his eyes closed.

"Yes Niall," Zayn's chest rises with Niall's face pressed over it, his lips giving sloppy kisses around his skin. "Oh, oh, oh—" He starts to moan each and every time Niall thrusts his dick back in with increasing force and speed, a painful thing to endure for pleasure. But he loves it when his face turns hot, loves it when his hands need something to grip but the only thing he ends up doing is hugging around Niall's neck as he lets the obscene sounds pour out into his mouth. Niall licks his tongue and whole mouth, and he starts to groan into it, pushing his mouth over. He spends seconds with his tongue lacing with Zayn's, before he pulls away and gnaws his bottom lip with his hand on Zayn's face, make it all sorts of romantic right then and there.

"Uh huh," Niall grunts rocking Zayn forward, letting his lip free from his teeth before his parts his mouth open enough for their tongues to meet again.

"Fuck, I'm there." Zayn exhales, not realizing he's pushing his legs back higher.

"Yeah? You're gonna come for me?" Niall asks; his voice deep and rough, it hurts Zayn's dick.

"Mhm." Zayn's back laughing once again, licking Niall's mouth, pressing his lips over until his body stutters even through Niall's continuous movement, his moaning quaking out into Niall's lips until Niall can swallow it down and press his mouth on Zayn while the warmth is spreading all over his stomach between them.

"Are you going to come for me?" Zayn asks this time, pressing kisses on Niall's cheek.

"N-no," His voice shakes over his laugh. "Maybe. Yes." 

Niall's the one crazily moaning in Zayn's ear. For his sake, Zayn hums in his ear, make him hear how god forbidding good this all feels. Then he ducks down to mouth around his neck, all the while Niall's pace and movement are starting to turn sloppy and rough.

"A-ah!" Niall gasps, hunching his back when the heat breaks right through him at that last thrust, shivers going down his spine and this cold air over his arms. Groaning, Zayn starts to feel it now—feel the thick warmth deeply fill him up, making his insides weak and body shake. Niall pulls out so Zayn can relax his legs and settle them down. He leaves them spread enough that Niall can rest back between them.

"I'm gonna make a perfume out of this." Niall reaches for the orange orchid that's perfectly intact from all their moving. "And I'm gonna spray it every time I wanna get laid by you."

"The Californian mistletoe?" Zayn starts to laugh, but it hurts immensely.

"Yeah. I'm gonna literally bathe in it all you're gonna do is want me. It's like Axe but it doesn't give me a headache."

"No one uses Axe anymore."

"Tell that to my fucking pledges." Niall laughs tiredly. He rolls off of Zayn to go to the bathroom. 

In the meantime, he puts his lubricant back in a drawer, careful he doesn't rub his stomach against the surrounding armrest. Grabbing for a tissue, he wipes his stomach, wiping his dick off after. He should've been smart to lay out a blanket under or something. He technically ignored that and just went with the vibe. He slipped into his black adidas sweats cuffed around the angles before he could run to the laundry room and put their clothes into the drier. His jeans look lighter and he's pretty annoyed at himself. If he didn't throw the ball at Niall while he was right by the pool and had Daft bounding to him, Niall wouldn't have resented him that much.

"I was gonna invite everyone out for tacos or something but apparently, it's Christmas here!" Niall yells from the bathroom.

"Did you forget?" Zayn queries.

"There was no snow to remind me." He steps out scratching his head with his other hand on his hip.

"You must be really missing Ireland." Zayn strips about 3 fabric softeners from the box for the total of four articles of clothing. He was always assenting on about fabric softeners. 

"Deffo. Walk two minutes, and there's a pub. Turn around, another pub." Niall laughs to himself; there's the sound of the tap running agter.. "Actually, it's a bit shit there. Weather sucks, we're actually one of the most racist countries, you'll meet more sheep than people, government's still takin' our money while we get nothin'; it's just not getting any better." There's a long pause, and then a hollow voice bouncing off from the sink tells him, "But it's home, and I love home." 

Zayn picks out a black shirt from the extra clothes on the wall-shelf he keeps right beside his couch sofa bed—his little square corner space to change. He's got clothes set in here in case something happens to the ones he's wearing. "If you advertised Ireland to me, I wouldn't go there at all. Unless I wanna become a sheep herder." 

"Or cows." Niall gives him a choice. He steps out with his face washed—looks refreshed and awake. Something about a wet face after washing it just makes anyone look good; especially Niall when the brim of his eyes and eyelashes glisten. Oh, he looks better—nothing to compete with at all. Little strands of his bangs stick on his forehead while his whole face literally glistens like water over rocks. 

"More sheep than cows, but there's definitely some." Niall takes the two little half-steps down to the floor of the couch sofa bed, setting a knee down for a blanket he wraps around his waist as he proceeds to crawl to the spot right at the corner.

Zayn might be speaking on stereotypes now when he thinks about how much it rains in Ireland. "How many rain boots did you own?" He walks over to his small kitchen. One small fridge, three counters with on sink over, microwave on the other while his three cabinets overhead are filled with endless supply of food that Gregory fills. He's sure Gregory comes in here when he needs to get away from the job. He pulls out hot Cheetos, opens two bottles of beer and takes them with him with his other hand.

"Fuckin—maybe 3. I don't wear them. Who wears galoshes willingly?" A leg comes over the bordering arm rest just as Niall tilts his head back, watching Zayn hop over instead of crawling across.

"I think it's a style in the East Coast." He hands Niall a bottle of beer. But Niall makes sure Zayn's close, not even arm hair length close. Closer than that, Zayn sits between his legs, leaning his back on Niall's chest, resting his head on Niall's shoulder. He's careful not to be sitting on Niall's dick over his blanket. And not on purpose. 

Niall turns it to the logo, intently reading what it has to say. He's not quite impressed. "Scotland? Got yourself imports and you get it from the Scotts." Niall huffs; not like it matters importantly anyway. He knocked it back as Zayn opened the bag of chips. Crisps to Niall, he tells himself, and it's really an odd thing to hear and know it means chips to Niall. 

They talk until the chips is below the halfway point and beer finished right to the bottom; fingertips tipped with a thick cheese layer. No plans to wipe it, they suck it off from their fingers, and then they just stay there pressed together against the corner.

Zayn's got teases in mind to attack Niall with, and for his own sake he keeps them buried in his thoughts. He has an arm hanging over Zayn's shoulder, the hand reaching down over his tummy holds Zayn's hand as he cuddles his face right against his. Really, the whole momentum of being alone really opens his eyes to new things like this; makes him wish that this winter break doesn't have a day where it ends.

"Are you alright?" He can feel Niall's smile burning through his skin as he squeezes his face against the side of his head. He kisses his cheek afterwards, bringing out the smile Zayn had hidden, blinking his eyes open to look at Niall from the corner of his eyes.

"I'm just thinking about how—different it's going to be when we get back to Portland." 

"Different how?"

"We can't really do this. Uh, there're more things for us to do this semester like that end of the year fair and the Olympics. Even sports season is starting, I'll be there for the games." Zayn chortles behind his close-lip smile. "I just—don't think we'll see each other often anymore."

"You're over-thinking. You act as if we won't cross the road for each other." Niall embraces him tighter. "You're over-thinking because you actually really love me more than I love you. Can't do that. That's not possible."

"Come to think of it, I do." Zayn rolls his eyes jokingly. "I love you more than you love me. It makes you mad."

"I'd puke because you're actually so cheesy and clingy, but I won't. Because I could definitely beat you at that."

Zayn is not clingy. He's what you call a lover of affection. He just likes being kissed and hugged and he'll do the same because just as much as he like getting some, he likes giving. He turns his head, pulling Niall down for a kiss until he can sit up at the same level, wrap his arms around his neck, catching his lips in between his each time. His tongue skims Niall's bottom lip to enter and Niall gladly lets him in, pushing his mouth more until Zayn can't breathe.

It was rough until Niall stopped pushing and just let their lips skim off each other as he caught his breath. He slotted his lips with Zayn; barely pushing, barely even touching. It gives that soft, wet tinge over Zayn's lips that he likes, that one that makes his lips soft and wet enough it still sticks on Niall's when he parts them. Something about the way he can feel his lips peel from Niall's when he pulls back makes his mind go into a frenzy.

"Wanna see the rest of L.A.?" Zayn's fingers play with the thick, short hairs of his nape. Unlike most of his hair, the lower you go from the top of the head, the darker it gets.

"Does this mean you lost?" When Zayn turns his head slightly, Niall presses his face into Zayn's neck. 

"It means I'm going to show you my home. Not much else." The other time they went around L.A. wasn't thorough. They went to things tourists would go to, things that you show somebody just for the sake of showing them and they just end up as a place but not a feeling. But the places Zayn has in mind, like the little coves in El Matador Beach in Malibu, Huntington Library and Botanical Gardens, and especially Murphy Ranch (to him) are places people should see and visit. As far as restaurants go and anywhere else but the beaches, those are places they have to visit anytime but Christmas Day. 

"Can put this on first." Niall's hand takes something by his side and Zayn notices the dark green colours of Kappa.

"Hey," Zayn breathes out when he takes the bracelet, admiring the dark green colour of the leather strings weaved together in a thin, circular cuff. The clasp was gold, with the Greek letters engraved in each side: K.O. "You already have it."

"Apparently no one in Kappa has lavaliered anybody since Jesy and Jake." Niall takes the bracelet back to unclasp the bracelet and clip it back around Zayn's wrist. "Which was... 4 years ago. But even before him, the last one was 10 years ago."

"Wow." Zayn starts to laugh, twisting his wrist to get used to the bracelet. "In Rho, when someone wants to lavaliere, all the guys have to put on their letter suits and sing for the one proposing."

Niall snorts. "That's so fucking cheesy." 

"I really like it, Niall." Zayn holds his wrist, fingers tracing the smooth leather weaving. 

"Yeah, look at that." Niall presses down a long scar on Zayn's hand meeting the wrist. "I went from pushing you down hills to lavaliering you."


	8. company

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He hasn't transitioned back from his holiday fever. He hasn't stopped missing Daft, his family, the Shack. He hasn't had that much freedom in so long, now it feels like he's trapped and there's nothing he can do about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the typos! :) thanks for reading
> 
> update: it's been exactly 4 months since i update...also this feels like a deja vu from years ago that im telling u guys that im saying it's /exactly/ 4 months... bye im rambling. sorry i took so long. i got lazy and started writing more stuff (something is coming soon lol)
> 
> idk who's been keeping up with this but im sorry to u the most for not updating n thanks

New Year's party at their house doesn't beat any kind of party at Rho's, but he does invite Eggsy over who's down in San Diego for the holidays. It's only a three hour drive for him, and he could bring whoever he pleases because it's not like Zayn can't do that—it is his family's party after all. From blood to business associates, every kind of people are here. Even children but they're locked up in another room with the children less than 18. Sad to say, Waliyha is down there too with her friends.

As for Zayn, he was just interested in doing one thing. Going and entering 2016 with a big ol' bang. There's a DJ around the poolside, a bar outside and inside, and the Shack is only exclusive to whomever Zayn wishes in. Other than Eggsy who he kicked out due to a latter problem that lead Niall and Zayn to eat about two brownies and now are high as shit, those are the only people allowed in.

Zayn's on his stomach, eyes so heavy he could count the amount of blinks he does in a minute and there just has to only be three. His whole body feels so glutinous that it tickles his bones when he moves, and then there's Niall's face on the midsection of his back—he's not doing anything but lying down either.

I can't feel my face when I'm with you, and Zayn loves it completely. With the song playing in the background through the speakers, neither of them can't actually feel their face right now. Niall's trying to somehow; his fingers are skimming against his cheekbones.

"Those were yummy" Niall grumbles. "God, I'm so fucking weak, I actually had four."

"I don't think I'll be awake for the countdown." Zayn laughs, smiling through his wooziness.

"You're gonna get left behind 2015. I can't go to 2016 without you." Niall groans. He's so cute when he's high. Then his hands slip right into Zayn's t-shirt, his fingers pressing right on his skin. He's also very affectionate when he's high above the clouds—like there would be any way to top off how he is now.

"Hey, you're very warm." Niall snuggles his face into Zayn's t-shirt.

"I'm also very hungry." Zayn groans. "I have ice... That I can chew on... And like, cereal. The healthy ones!"

"I'll feed you. Don't worry. I'll look for food, if you want."

"It's okay. I'll live, babe."

He can feel Niall shifting on his back, fixing his head on the curve of his back but he doesn't move to get up. His arm is around his waist, head on it like a pillow—relaxing like he's had enough of everything. Zayn knew he was tired because Daft was on their bed, resting as usual without Niall yelling and complaining about this bear.

The only time Zayn moves is to look behind him and it's when he hears sniffling and crying and it isn't Daft and he's moving to sit up. All Daft does is whine and Niall definitely doesn't whine before crying.

"Zayn," Niall groans; there are actual tears in the corner of his eyes and their brims are watery. "I'm sorry."

"Huh?" Zayn can barely open his eyes, but he can see enough to know he's rubbing his face.

"It's 12:02 and I didn't kiss you." Niall sobs, rubbing his eyes. "It's 2016! You fucking missed it! You're not in 2016! I—Fucked up!"

"No!" Zayn tries to hold Niall's hands from rubbing any further. Even through his sluggish behaviour, he leans his forehead in on Niall's, pouting his numb lips out. He starts to mumble with his shut eyes. "We c'n still kiss. Don't worry."

"I hope so!" Niall huffs then he turns his head to the bear. "Daft looks so mad." He's half asleep, not knowing why humans are jumping and cheering outside.

"Not at you, for sure."

"'Cause I didn't kiss his owner!" Niall starts to wail out; his face very expressive of this situation that Niall thinks can't be fixed somehow.

It can totally be fixed, and Zayn adds his extra hand by kissing Niall's face. From his soft hair he made sure to nestle a kiss on his forehead to cheek, he kissed him carefully and endearingly—right down to his hands that Zayn holds within his own.

"You're really high." Zayn laughs, his heart beat is really fast. He shifts a little, hoping Niall doesn't think he's going to leave him. He doesn't need Niall crying all of the sudden and then two seconds later, cackling his mind away.

He prepares him a glass of water with ice, popping one in his mouth just to cool his mouth down since it feels too hot for him.

Niall drinks it to the bottom, slurping the ice until Zayn peels the glass away from him, sets it down and goes back on the bed, head on Niall's thighs.

Zayn blinks slowly to the song. The only touch he feels is Niall's hand stroking his hair and as much as all he wants to do is kiss him, he's falling asleep. The unsettling part is that he's hungry, not knowing whether to sleep or eat. Eating that brownie just caused him to be high without fixing his cravings for food. And now being high, he's just extra hungry.

"I love this song..." Niall mumbles incoherently to a tone that sounds familiar. "... Hotline bling! That canonly mean one thing!"

Zayn's stomach practically groaned at the mention of food. "Cannoli sounds great right now." 

"Zayn! You're so silly." Niall laughs like a real loon. "Silly boy."

He's as silly as one can be with pot brownies in their system right now. It doesn't help that Niall's right above his level; two accidentally created potheads don't need to look and rely on each other from one another. It's like asking the smelly guy in the room how to retain that perfume scent. Gosh, more like B.O. Bad idea completely.

In a matter of a few minutes, Eggsy comes in. He knows all about their problem, and he comes bearing gifts of food hidden under his sweater. As far as Zayn knows he's kicked Eggsy out, he doesn't necessarily decide to kick him out the next time that he's in here. With one of the bag of chips Eggsy brought was something he chose for as a snack for the whole party, and now it's back in his hands.

"Yay." Zayn gushes quietly, taking the cheeto puffs and wrapping his arms around it as he presses it into his chest.

Eggsy holds the side of Zayn's head, messing his hair before he can pinch his cheeks. Zayn too happy to react in any bad manner, smiles through his shut eyes. "You guys looked fucked." 

"We slipped up, okay. I was hungry and I ate four. They looked like two-bite brownies!"

"I see you're still hostile. Alright." 

"I'm defensive, is what I am."

"I'm guessing you don't want your pack of airheads?"

"I'm defensive and hungry."

"This is candy. How are you going to fill yourself up like this?"

"You're young. You wouldn't understand."

"We're the same age."

"Oh be quiet, Eggy." 

"My name's Gary to you!" He grumps all the way to the bar, bringing out a small glass and pours himself a taste of scotch.

"Niall, play nice would you? Eggsy's my brother." Zayn sits up long enough to turns his head left and right for Eggsy until he finds him by the bar. "I love you, Eggsy!"

"I love you too!" Eggsy raises his glass at Zayn even when he's turned back towards the same way—to the TV with cheeto puffs in his arms. 

Niall rolls his eyes without letting a word out about how absurd they are. The only thing absurd is this pack of airheads. Only three flavours? Of course those are the main ones, but his favourite ones are the white ones with the mystery flavour. Call it sketchy but they're tasty and different. He could thank Eggsy but he's still feeling off about him and he could confess that it's because he's from Rho—same goes for Eggsy's way of going against him.

And then there's Zayn, who fell asleep with a bag of cheetos in his arms.

—

It all feels surreal being back when the holidays felt like it was something that lasted forever when it was only three weeks. He doesn't even feel like a changed man coming back after the holidays and after his suspension. It just got him back his room and position in the house. He's still feeling weary about Harry.

Walking into the house reminds him of his first year trying to pledge for Rho—keep this family legacy going on even if it wasn't important to Zayn as it was for his dad. Through his three years, he's learned a lot of things he never would have not being in a family like Rho.

In speaking of which, they stared at him when he brought all his things in a duffle bag with Eggsy lugging his own things behind. He felt like everyone was about to clap in which by all means go ahead, be the odd ones. Marching to his room felt like he was marching to get his head cut off. He would never think in his life that feeling would ever come.

The whole system has changed completely and Zayn doesn't know if he likes it. The pledges are now made honorary members of Rho through a short initiation of sharing a drink between all 25 members from a grail so it means they're included in the weekly meetings and everything else, really. Chapter meetings are usually short and concise, but it has suddenly grown to an entire hour where Harry is talking about changing Rho from the traditions while Zayn nods. It was all planned without him—more parties, more volunteering so the name of Rho spreads around Portland, and more bonding time—that was specifically directed to him and nobody else. Even with his bracelet on given to him by Niall, he hides it under his sleeve from them.

Now that he's got no classes with Niall, it's hard to see him around. It's harder to even talk to him when he's at work. And it isn't any better than the board meeting with the rest of the chapters where they're talking about current evens and the fair drive that's going to happen in May.

He hasn't transitioned back from his holiday fever. He hasn't stopped missing Daft, his family, the Shack. He hasn't had that much freedom in so long, now it feels like he's trapped and there's nothing he can do about it.

Rho happens to hold more parties than the usual number they used to do. It's as if every Saturday since January started, all they've been doing is partying with Theta that Zayn's made friends with this new Theta pledge Imaan who's stuck closer to him than any of the other men who's gawking over her. It's the very curly brown hair and the illustrious pout of hers that's got everyone staring. She's hoping to join the fashion industry, and he's got nothing to provide as insight but she believes he's got something.

She's the one that's around wherever he goes. She meets him at O'Den's, gives him a hug with the thickness of her wool scarf in between them, dropping off a menthe tea before leaving. She's the one at the gym when he's back sparring with Harry—running on the tread mill and he's given a proper punch to his jaw for not being in the game a hundred percent. Sometimes she'd watch them, sometimes Zayn would pep talk her into doing an extra ten minute on the tread mill before giving up.

It isn't his fault Leigh's dating Perrie. He knew it would happen before she even told him. No surprise to his face but he really was happy for her. Lucky thing, she's allowed in their house any time she wants to be—and Zayn still can't even lay a foot inside Kappa, perfect weather or a storm. Louis can't play favourites and he totally gets that. He also understands how equal Louis is with everything and that's exactly how he wants to be too. That meant Niall couldn't sneak into his room anymore.

Everything has been so limited, so compact. He's constrained to keeping his weeks dedicated to Rho and somehow the only exception he's made is to make Imaan feel welcome around the chapters, and that's not even his job.

The one day he finally finds time to be with Niall, it's in the darkness of the theatre. No one talks, they just sit and watch the film, enjoying it more than the company of each other.

"I really like this sweater." Niall pulls it off his chest to read the letters that say _Happy Times_. It's a red crew neck sweater that Zayn sprayed his cologne with, so at least Zayn smells his own scent from Niall. They're coming out from the theatre and walking home because it's 10. "And everything else. Especially the sketchbook. Lots of naked skins." He laughs the same time he pulls Zayn in by his hand, lets their fingers lace together.

"It's the models that came in." Zayn tells him. He has seen so many, different and diverse bodies, drew them all, admired it all but one. "But I always wanted to try and draw you."

"I can't unwillingly expose myself like that to you." Niall laughs. "Like, it's just so different when I'm beside you or something."

"I get it. Don't worry." Zayn presses a kiss on his cheek. "I just really miss you though so like, let me take the piss." Something he's picked up saying from Niall.

"Sounds like you miss my body." Niall makes a tsk sound when he shakes his head. "Shame. I've got personality too!"

"I miss your big mouth and its personality all over my dick."

"You're so ugly." Niall starts to cackle into his hand. "I'm not feeling the love at all."

"Okay. Um." Zayn ponders for a while. "I miss your criticism over everything. I really do. Gives people things to talk about."

"This'll sound very weird but I miss the old days when you and I used to fight." Niall cocks his head to the left. "Gave me something to think about."

"Also gave that big mouth of yours something to say shit about."

"My mouth isn't even that big." Niall touches his lips.

"The amount of shit that comes out of it, I'm sure it easily expands." Zayn winks at him.

"You're calling my mouth an asshole!" Niall accuses.

"Poor baby." He coos as he wipes his hand on the corner of his eye. His smile starts to get bigger when Niall stares at him. "I really do miss you."

"Too bad you banned me."

"Just don't want to risk it." Zayn kisses the end of his eyebrow. "New members are running around, sucking up for respect."

Niall takes a second to press his lips between Zayn's. "I can't suck your respect?"

"When we have a longer time out together." Zayn promises. By the time that they're talking about this, they're in front of Niall's door. The light is on and he swears he can hear laughter behind the door.

An empty promise is nothing but an empty promise. Zayn doesn't hear anything from Niall for a week until they start to text again on Saturday. Throughout the night, he sends choppy, uninterested responses—half his attention is on karaoke, half his attention is on the boys. There wasn't any room to fit in texting but he tried and it wasn't working. Niall could tell he wasn't into it at all by the time Zayn sent his fourth text back and Niall hasn't replied to it at all. He usually gives a fast response. It bothered him a lot.

It was his turn at Karaoke, so he picked a song that he was feeling at the moment. Recently, he just started listening to classic rock again and that brought a whole lot of raw emotion from rocking out in his room in high school, trying to do the air guitar.

So he and Liam went with _Don't Stop Believing._ That got the whole room cracking up. A typical karaoke song, but it's really what he wants. As soon as it began, the air piano players started and they were all off beat and placement. Zayn hasn't had this much fun in a long time with them.

Through the dramatics, Zayn faced the screen with Liam. Somehow, it was like they knew through telepathy what they were going to do. As soon as the solos were over, they turned to the crowd, pointing their fingers at them. "Just a small town boy!"

"Fucker is from Bel Air!" One of them yelled, and Zayn accidentally laughed into the mic.

But he continued, and it was flawless. To the end, everyone was shouting with the song and less with singing along. Somewhere inside his mind he thought they were going to get kicked out for their misdemeanour.

Right after that night, he's going to Niall's, knocking on the door and hoping he doesn't have to explain himself to anyone other than Louis or Niall. He's not fond with anybody else.

"Zayn?" Niall answers the door in a white shirt and basketball shorts.

"Think you can step out?" Zayn asks.

"Like foot wise or date wise?"

"Date wise." Zayn laughs. "I've made reservations in McDonalds."

"Yeah. How fucking romantic of you." Niall leaves the door cracked open. Zayn knows he can't step in so he waits for him on the stairs. There's faint music playing inside and it's quiet for a Saturday night at the house of Kappa. Even Rho must be louder than they are and they just got home from karaoke.

Zayn enjoys every bit of Niall's company—wanting to suffocate from it because he has barely spent any time with him at all. The annoying part is, they're never truly alone in this godforsaken city. All these people, it just makes him feel distant from Niall. He can't kiss him without being stared at, can't embrace him like he truly wants to, and he can't even sit with him when someone he recognizes notices him too.

He really does like Imaan; she's great and fun for company, but it always trips him when he can't seem to understand why she lights up when she notices him anywhere. She'd hug him tight, spend all her time by his side, and he really just wants to know what makes him so easily approachable like that.

"Hi Zayn." She waves, smiling big as ever. She's wearing the university hoodie under her parka with straight cut, ripped jeans.

"Hey Imaan," Zayn smiles back. "I figured you'd be with the girls tonight."

"We're having a Fast and Furious marathon and I decided to take a break after the third one—not Tokyo Drift." She makes a face that Zayn interprets as disgusted. It seems like this whole campus just loves the franchise. Unless, Leigh showed it to Perrie who's now forcing it down their throat to watch.

"Tokyo Drift was horrible." Zayn huffs. "But I did love Han." He was the quiet one who was dealing through his attempt to stop smoking, fell in love with someone he didn't expect—oh, how he can relate.

"Oh, uh—Imaan, this is Niall." Zayn turns to look at him. His eye winces, and so does Niall's. And it seems to be that he's mocking all the changes in his expression. "We're on a date 'cause we're—together." Niall's eyes widened like Zayn's, playfully frowning because he couldn't laugh at the way Zayn was talking.

Imaan holds her hand out. "Kappa, all fun and games."

"You heard wrong." Niall gives her a firm handshake. "We're the party gods."

"I thought that was Rho."

Zayn shakes his head; he has to be honest about this. "Kappa takes the throne for best parties."

"What's Rho good for then?" Imaan looks at Niall this time.

"Being a pain in the ass." Niall looks at Zayn. "He's a literal pain."

"Shut up." Zayn's laugh mixes with a scoff. 

"Think Theta can get an invite?" Imaan looks eager for this weekend plan that hasn't even been initiated or executed in anyway whatsoever. They're still thinking of a plan, and by the suggestions Louis' heard over the course of the week, rock n'roll it is.

"Kappa's doors are open to all." Niall opens his arms with a grin, and Zayn could see Imaan's excitement. "Except Rho."

"Hope you're not jealous, Zayn." Imaan is like his little sister for some reason. Although, that might be the Theta-Rho relationship they've had over the years.

"I'll be fine." Zayn's eyebrows quirk. "Just make sure you're alive by Monday."

"Okay, what's Monday?" Poor Imaan hasn't heard what this coming week is. Pledges should be aware of it—expect that fraternity and sorority life isn't just about bonding and having fun.

They don't say anything more than a goodbye; leaving Imaan with questions to fill her head with many thoughts and ideas which will eventually all fall through in the weekend. 

Zayn had more important things to focus on, and that was make this date just something that could get them through the week. Second semester always ends up being the busiest time of the year. It's all laughs and games anyway. When the warm weather starts to kick in and the sky is actually blue, the campus beach opens, sports starts to happen, and that means no one's feeling like a crappy frozen shit.

"So, soccer captain, what are your predictions this coming season?" Zayn asks, leaning his face right close to Niall's, invading his personal space like annoying journalists do.

Laughing like a loon he is, he pretends to think long and hard, let Zayn stare him down until he's breaking out with an answer. "Success, accomplishments, and improvements." 

Zayn puts his arm around Niall's shoulder, quietly teasing him when he turns Niall's face towards him, "Do boyfriends get free tickets to home games?" 

"Boyfriends?" Niall laughs harder than before. "Are you sure we're together?" 

Zayn will admit his introductions between Niall and Imaan were a little bit scrambled. He had never had to introduce Niall in a way where nobody didn't know him. Genuinely, everyone knew you if you were a high status ranking Greek or involved in sports. Funny, Kappa vice-president Niall is involved in soccer as their forward captain.

Imaan being a pledge wouldn't know Niall unless they were their sister house. Rho is Theta's sister house and always will be until Perrie or one of the future presidents say otherwise. Zayn has every intentions of introducing Niall as his boyfriend without question and doubt to anybody who asks him. It just sounds awfully weird from his mouth.

"I didn't think I had to say it. I feel like everyone knows we're together by now." Zayn explains through his mumbling.

"And if they don't?" Niall's hand rests on the small of Zayn's back until he slides his arm all the way around his hip.

"This is my boy—friend, Niall." That didn't sound so good.

"What the hell was that?" Niall begins to cackle, weakly shoving Zayn away from him.

Zayn groans, taking Niall's hand. "I will definitely make it up to you.

"Ugh! You're terrible. That's all you've been thinking about." 

"Okay!" Zayn admits. "I miss your body, so what? S'not like anything can happen anyway." He grimaces at Niall. "You confuse me sometimes."

"How?"

"Sometimes you want sex, then sometimes you don't." Zayn starts to tip the metaphorical scales that are both his hands. He can't really talk either; it'd be hypocritical when Niall starts to want sex and Zayn says no.

"I'm supposed to be the horn dog, and you're supposed to be the innocent one." Niall scoffs. Zayn begins to laugh when Niall tries to hit him with his backpack. "It doesn't work when you're the seductive one fucking about and I'm just the brains who studies all the time. I can't be both."

"Yes you can. Why don't you just tell them where you actually go at night?" Zayn looks up. It's night. The whole plan was McDonalds in the first place so Niall didn't need to bring his backpack if he wasn't planning on going somewhere else.

"Why don't you tell them you've been getting laid left and right ever since you and Alex broke up?" Niall lifts a brow, Zayn's lips curve back.

"Oh, the complexities of these things." Zayn waves it off. "Let's go to the library."

Not too much people were at the library on a weekend. That's a good thing to hear. Zayn wouldn't really want to see this library filled with students. That must mean their parties must really suck if no one isn't going to any at all.

Niall gives Zayn a book to read from his backpack while Niall opens his textbook and notebook up.

"The Scarlet Letter?" Zayn hesitates to open the book. He's like a caveman, flipping it upside down, turning it backwards.

Suddenly, a slap cracks the quiet air of the library and it's Niall's hand on his knee. "Zayn, shut up."

He does a double-take at Niall, dropping the book on the table before he crosses his arms. What does one do at a library while their boyfriend studies god knows what? All he could really focus on are Niall's glasses and how great he looks with them on, flat hair with an attempt to style it and all.

Half of the time, maybe it's to make sure he's still there and awake, Niall rubs Zayn's thighs, sometimes either on top or the insides, fingers curling on the underside right at the bend of his knees. Sadly, he doesn't go any higher. It just gives him something to grin about.

It would be a good time to start his V.P. assignments if he had brought his backpack too. He just had a jacket on and clothes to cover his skin.

Overall, what this was doing to him was getting him impatient for something that probably won't happen at all. The last time they ever did anything together was the New Year's morning. Niall had let out Daft so he wouldn't be an interruption to them. Kind of evil if you ask Zayn. So he's been held off for more than two weeks now, trying not to think about naughty things. He filled his mind with good, sweet things to erase his desire to just share a fucking bed for one night.

"I'll be back." Zayn lets out a deep breath.

He's back beside Niall after ten minutes, just to be welcomed back with a long kiss.

"Missed you." He says when he pulls away.

"Sap." Zayn laughs.

He has just gotten so used to being around Niall, he's made a habit of it more to spend time with him than anyone else. He didn't drop his friends for Niall. At the time, nobody was. Rho was just beginning to hate him when things started, and Leigh is around Perrie more often than he can say he's been around with Niall since second semester started. He hasn't cut anybody off for Niall—has he?

Zayn doesn't want to be that one person who puts their boyfriend first over everyone else, no matter how good everything is between them. Come to think of it, they were friends first after being long-term enemies so Niall isn't fighting with anybody for the spot.

Then there's Harry who's beginning to lose order around the house. He's got more people coming in and out from his room than any of them do on a Saturday night. Sometimes two come out at once, and Zayn's completely caught off guard just seeing them go through their fridge. Seems like everyone's looking for someone to replace spots then.


	9. pillowtalk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "What's going on?" Liam mumbles behind the bag on his head.
> 
> "It's Hell week, bitch!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey :)
> 
> btw shoutout to one of my fave shows Greek for inspiring me with some of the stuff i write like hell week and house i*********** (dont wanna give spoilers). most of the credit goes to them, as well as some frat fics here :) cant do this without them

"Move! Move! Move! Get up pledge!" 

Liam peels his head away from his blanket, letting his drowsy eyes make out the black clothed figure intruding his room with three other lanky men. "Zayn, is that you?" 

"No, pledge!" Harry shouts over Liam. Zayn's the one at the door, beckoning them to hurry up since they're breaking into the dorms tonight. "No questions!" He bagged Liam's head with Ant holding Liam's arms behind his back.

His roommate was watching from his bed, hiding his mouth behind his blanket. The whites of his eyes resemble the snow outside, and how much Zayn doesn't miss it at all. They've got to run back across campus to Greek Row shoving Liam in front of them to keep up. It's bone chilling cold and they're only wearing their ninja costumes with Liam wearing his pyjamas and slip-on sandals.

"What's going on?" Liam mumbles behind the bag on his head.

"It's Hell week, _bitch_!" Ant yells—that's a habit they're going to be doing this whole entire time. "And stop talking! Or you're going to be freezing your ass out here!"

That's exactly not the idea they have in mind to follow. They'll only suffer from frostbite and it'll all be great. Haha, _just kidding_. Hazing is very illegal! Except one week of their lives and it won't all be that bad. Zayn doesn't think so.

All the pledges were in the basement, black bag over their heads, hands tied behind their chairs. All of them were in their sleeping clothes except Tyrese who Harry had to wait for to get his clothes on because he sleeps naked. He's tied with the university sweater on and a pair of jeans he picked up.

"This is just the beginning of a very exciting week." Exciting it is—easy it is not. Zayn's beginning to think like Yoda now. He pulls his mask off, messing his hair with his hand. All fifteen of them, innocent and naïve for what's to come. They've set up a clock in the basement, and they've figured out it's only 3am. Some of these guys might have only had an hour sleep.

"Unlike the other houses, we're not here to torment you, or make you clean our washrooms or do Ben's disgusting laundry." Zayn looks around, pondering with a proud smile. "Let's say, we're here to test you. See your capabilities of being a part of Rho."

"By that, we mean you have exactly three hours to find your way out of this basement." Harry exhales. It smells like paint down here. "We'll be locking you in, and you will have to figure out how to escape this room before time runs out."

"If you don't finish by 6—let's just say there's a reason why they call it hell week, and we'll be glad to show you the meaning." Zayn explains, petting one of the pledges on their head. 

Hell week was way worse than it has been over the past few years. When leadership of the fraternities and sororities weren't run by a couple of blood-driven presidents who wanted to make Pacific Cyprus U a part of a massive scandal across United States, the Greek system is actually a very loving community who likes to involve others. 

As for the incident three years ago in Hell Week, there were reports that someone from Kappa ended up in the hospital for sleep deprivation and Zayn was in his senior year of high school when he heard that. So news travels fast when you're a legacy of a fraternity of that university that's being scrutinized. Actually, his dad was the one who told him about it and laughed at Kappa's stupidity. Can you actually get hospitalized for sleep deprivation? 

Zayn can see things have changed; if this were any other president and if Harry wasn't in a 'fine' mood like last semester, consider the pledges dead before the beginning of Hell Week.

The plan is, when the pledges break out, they'll find the house empty, and that's when they'll find their next task in the living room—find a way to bring their brothers back before the day ends. Easy as it sounds, nobody as stubborn as Rho could ever be tricked and convinced to go back if they know it's a task the pledges have to do. As much as he loves Liam, he's gotta really find a way to get Zayn back into the house. Or find him in the first place.

But Hell Week isn't just for the Greeks; Hell Week ends up being hell for everybody whether or not they like it. What sucks is that his birthday is at the end of Hell Week and there's possibly nothing worse than that because for once, when he actually wants a celebration for his birthday, he won't get one during the weekend. It'll be just the pledges going against Kappa to perform an iconic female dance routine for them, and they better win. If there's a gift Zayn wants, it's Rho winning the final Hell Week celebration.

He gets out of his political science class just to be stopped by Liam.

"Hey little brother," Zayn grins at him, walking past Liam so he could head for Heis. "What do you have for me?"

Liam follows beside, gripping his backpack straps. "I will buy you your six months’ worth of groceries if you go back to Rho with me." 

"That's it?" Zayn laughs, checking his wallet for a $5 bill. That's enough for a chai latte and three pieces of churros. "Liam, bribes like that would win somebody but not me. I can buy you your six months’ worth of groceries and mine altogether." 

"This is stupid." Liam sighs. "How am I supposed to bring you back to the house? Apparently, Tyrese got Jordan back home in Rho this afternoon because he put his Yeezy shoes in the wash."

Zayn snorts. No one would ever survive that idiocy at all. If there's one thing you don't mess with, it's another man's kicks. "Tyrese is determined." 

"But that's fucking insane!" Liam exclaims, walking into Heis after Zayn. "I would never hurt my brother like that."

"Think of it this way," Zayn looks over his shoulder to tell Liam, "Sometimes you have to do terrible things for the sake of your brothers' happiness and wellbeing." 

"My brother's stubborn and can replace anything I break or use." Liam mutters despondently, clear enough for Zayn to get a laugh in too. In translation, there's nothing Liam can do.

By 5, Liam's still following Zayn around at Heis, watching Zayn complete his homework or listening to the band playing, he really doesn't know. He hasn't bothered him to come home since they came here, and he's partially in a bad mood right now. He'll be alright, he's got 7 more hours to try and get Zayn home.

On the other hand, that leaves him with seven more hours to plan real hell for Liam and the others who don't end up dragging their big brothers home. He could totally go with a fifty push ups that one of them would probably end up doing without breaking a sweat, or—joyride campus cop's golf cart, and they better pray to god they don't end up caught.

But Zayn really does want to go home now. If Liam offers him dinner right now, he might just budge so he can go take a nap. That's until Leigh comes along, holding a fresh drink of sweet tea. She must've just finished class.  

"Hi Liam. You little cutie, you." She laughs quietly, sitting on the coffee table in front of them since there were no chairs available. 

"I need a way to drag Zayn home and nothing's worked."

"Well, you can't really threaten Zayn with a naked pic and tell him to come home right now unless you're Niall." She lets out a sigh, eyes looking up at the ceiling. Zayn can't believe that's an actual idea Leigh came up with for him.

"Really, Leigh?" Zayn grimaces, and leans back on the couch and away from his Macbook. "I actually hate sexting."

Liam turns to Zayn, pushing his eyebrows together. "You cannot tell me right now, that if Niall sent you a nudie, you wouldn't run home?"

"Alright. I would, but the possibility of that happening is slim. And since I know you still need fresh ideas to get me home, I'm probably going to expect certain scheming like that." Even if there's that slim possibility, Niall's fully aware that sneaking into his room right now would definitely get him killed.

"Where is he, anyway? I thought you'd be like, having romantic dinners every night or something like that." Leigh sips her drink, waiting for Zayn's answer. It's actually written on his face the way he's about to break into laughter.

Zayn snorts through his nose instead. "Is that what you think of us?" That's surprising, yet endearing to hear such a thought.

Leigh makes a weird noise behind here straw. She seems excited. "Liam, check his bracelet." She points at his left wrist.

Liam's eyes quickly shift to the jewellery on his wrist, his hand bringing Zayn's wrist closer to his face while his other hand twists and examines the bracelet. Maybe he should've told Liam since he is his little brother. Come to think of it, the only person who knows about this bracelet is Leigh and Niall. He isn't exactly hiding it under his sleeves. He just doesn't flaunt it out like others. Not to mention, it looks like a really innocent bracelet he got from some clothing store. Nobody would know it has Kappa's letters unless they really looked at it like Liam is; his eyes caught the KO letters and he's exclaiming under his breath.

"Wow, Zayn." Liam looks at him. "Yeah, shouldn't you be having dinner together?"

He sighs, closing his Macbook. "Alright, I'm done talking about him. I want fried chicken. Anyone down?"

"Of course. If it means I get to bother you about Niall for another hour sure." Leigh smiles at him and he's ready to smack it off her face with the sofa's pillows. 

"How's Perrie, Leigh?" Zayn will use this instead.

"I-I—she's great. S-she's cool." Leigh stammers and Zayn knows why he can barely form two-syllable words. "W-we're actually tight like—" Leigh starts to compress her hands together.

"What the heck is that?" Liam starts to laugh, slapping Zayn's arm and he starts to laugh too.

"That is Leigh-Anne unable to speak about her feelings for her girlfriend that she really likes more than like."

"It's dinner time if you will!"

"It absolutely is."

It still feels weird that O'Den's is where Zayn works and it's the same place he comes to eat dinner when he feels like it. Now that he thinks about it, does anyone actually eat at home or is that something he imagines from time to time? The only person who can really cook is Jordan and that's because he's in culinary. Even with his expertise, he hardly cooks for anyone but himself.

Zayn being the guy that works here gets a few perks. He's able to ask his co-worker for sides of homemade gravy and country gravy with their fried chicken and fries. If there's one thing to like about America, it's the deep fried, fattening, increasing high blood pressure food. Not Trump or this entire presidential campaign for next year.

"If Trump ends up president, I'm gonna go back to being an Anglo-Saxon." Liam starts to shake the ketchup bottle. 

"That fascist overlord is going to get us all killed." Leigh sighs. "I was watching Scandal, and this is one election they really need to rig." 

"Screw that wrinkly Voldemort. What are we going to do for my birthday?" Zayn's pretty excited about turning 22. This year feels really different than all the other past few birthdays he's had. Although, he's convinced none of them remembered his birthday. If they don't that's cool too. He'll just fly out to Vegas; fuck himself up before Monday comes, in time for his real birthday which is actually on Tuesday.

"What birthday?" Leigh wipes her mouth with a napkin.

"I get one every year, you get one every year. Everyone gets one every fucking year."

"My, my, how hostile you are. Niall must be really rubbing off on you."

"I just wanna know what we're going to do for my birthday." Zayn stares at her with a deadpan expression.

"You really wanna know now?" Leigh frowns. "You want me to spoil what Rho and I have planned?"

"You planned it with Rho?" Zayn thinks of all the possibilities Rho would have for him. They could start with go-karting. Zayn wants an excuse to drive really fast without being pulled over. They could even just watch his favourite movie series and take a shot each time a car flies off the road.

“Of course I did!” Leigh laughs. She sounds enthusiastic herself.

Zayn grins, wiping his fries on the gravy of his plate. “Tell me what we’re going to be up to then.”

Liam starts to hum, cutting his arm in between the table. "I'll make you a deal," Liam clears his throat. “I tell you what we’ve planned, and you go home with me.”

“Liam!” Zayn starts to groan and laugh, covering his face with his hand. “I can’t do that. That’s too easy!”

“You’re literally shaking in your seat, bro.” Liam lets his head sway left and right. "I know you need this."

"Well, you thought wrong."

—

So far, no one has ended up in the hospital. Well, with Harry as the closest thing they have to a doctor, he was the one who treated the injuries from sumo fight club. A little no more than handing pledges a bag of ice for their face. There's also that one incident where pledge Kyle nearly broke his chin when he ran out of Kappa's house to take their prized statuette of a gnome with a golf club. A scary looking thing really; Zayn doesn't want it in his room to keep so he put it in the storage room instead.

As soon as it was assumed missing from Kappa's fireplace, Niall called him—as if he knew anything about it. Well, of course he did. Zayn planned the heist himself. And just because they're dating doesn't necessarily mean they'll be in perfect terms. Zayn is still Rho and Niall is still Kappa.

But ever since Kappa's golf gnome went missing, it's been growing tense lately that Hell Week became Rival's Quarrel. Not a legitimate activity, but if it was—there hasn't been a winner determined since twenty years ago. But this year, with their pledges ready to fight against Kappa's unruly behaviour, they'll be able to be named King of Greek Row.

It could never be Kappa; not when rumours started to fly around about how Kappa's burying their pledges in snow with nothing but their jackets and parkas, mitts and scarves—the accessories for winter with a walkie-talkie. It's far from rumours than reality that Ant has seen with his own two eyes when he went to spy on them. Apparently, the pledges were living in Kappa's backyard for an entire week. It explains the tents and coolers they had. 

But today is the day where the pledges will declare how much they want this, how much they want to win. These dance routines are going to be the spark of Rival's Quarrels. And these pledges better win—it's the prediction of the end of their battles. Whoever wins these dance routines, tend to win the all-out fraternity war.

"Hello, honey." Niall croons from behind, startling Zayn in his seat. He was in Rho's section. They'll be coming anytime and they won't hesitate to jump Niall.

Zayn shakes his head, keeping his eyes towards the stage. "Don't honey me." 

"You're lucky I haven't sent anyone to get you offed."

"Off me?" That's a bit worrying. 

"Yeah, like—have someone shoot you with a paint gun so you'd realize who you're messin' with." Niall grimaces. "I just want our gnome back."

Zayn grins; making sure Niall doesn't see it. "We'll see."

"I didn't expect betrayal so early into the game." Niall sighs. "Nice to see that my boyfriend's got my back."

"Oh come on," Zayn starts to laugh deeply, turning his body to face Niall, letting the chair fit between his legs. Nice to see his sunburns from L.A. finally fade into a tan. "It was just a little hell week prank for the pledges. We had to see what they were capable of."

"Well maybe, you underestimated me." Niall leans back in his seat. "Don't you wonder why nobody's here yet? That it's just you and me right now?"

Zayn's eyes narrow until they're slits to Niall. They're supposed to be backstage. 

"Maybe," Niall shrugs, including his face. "Something happened back in Rho. Maybe something like Rho's treasured chalice being taken."

"Really? The Epsilon Chalice?" As much as Zayn wants to care, he really doesn't have any kind of value towards materialistic things—even when that thing has been a part of Rho's history since 1852.

"Oh no, no, no, no." Niall hisses mischievously. When he smirks, that's something to be terrified about. "I got something else from you."

"Like what?"

"It's orange."

One simple word like that, Zayn's eyes blew up wide. "You kidnapped my pet fish!"

He leans right into Zayn's face. "It's _my_ _fishy_ now." Niall teases him like a fourth grader who finally got what they wanted after arguments and pulling.

"I can't believe you, Niall." Zayn huffs, clenching his teeth and lips together. 

What he really can't believe is how he managed to pull it off. If he took Zayn's fish from his room, untouched and unseen, then where is everybody else? What did Kappa do to Rho? Niall could have taken the gnome back. He must've figured this would piss everyone off.

"Where are they, then?" Zayn asks calmly. 

"They're alive." Niall sighs casually. "Probably tired, exhausted, but still alive."

Zayn swears under his breath and counts to five when he closes his eyes. He only lets out one deep breath before he opens his eyes again. This time, he's got a close-lipped smile, his eyes smiling at Niall too.

"You're so lucky I like you." 

Niall's mouth parts; he's baffled and annoyed. "Oh, come on. I thought we loved each other." He holds Zayn's face, and Zayn stays unchallenged and unbothered. "Remember," Niall's voice sounds breathy, lulling as he tries to take Zayn back to Memory Lane. "When we went to El Matador, and we had the whole beach to ourselves, and we wore nothing to swim at all?"

Zayn doesn't really want to go back there but his mind chooses to oblige and go back to the day after Christmas. The malls and were filled, shops were being raided by people who needed deals. That meant that beaches were untouched, cliffs and canyons unvisited. 

Zayn doesn't want to go back to the memory, knowing how much that whole day meant to them entirely. The timid smile on Niall's lips—it's not to bother Zayn as it was before. Niall must've remembered the mouldable wet sand under his toes; the taste of salt water on his lips again, the cold water that couldn't have been any more frigid cold than Portland. The massive rocks reminded him the bottom of the cliffs in Ireland—how the sea would crash itself upon the jagged edges of the stone, how it had formed itself into a massive shape people could walk through and explore, feel like they've found something magical. 

It didn't rain like it would in Ireland, there weren’t any cows or sheep or their shit to smell and see to remind him of back home. And he definitely wouldn't go in brisk naked into cold waters if this was Ireland. Grass in L.A. reminded him of straw, and it wasn't any greener like Irish pastures but it was all close enough for Niall to have called his family home after their time at the beach. 

"I do remember. But we're here in Portland," Zayn laughs quietly. "I still have some tiny bit of hate for you left."

"Fine then, babe." Niall's hands fall on his lap, and he sits back, letting his body sink lower into his chair, his legs spread just a bit wider. "I hope you get to watch Kappa's performance. They've got a surprise for you."

With Zayn’s hands, gripping the back of his chair, he pokes his tongue at his molar. “Kappa can suck it.” And he gives one hard thrust against his chair before he slips out of his seat. Rho’s really fucking late for their own performance.

The audience was filling the seats; Kappa is just beginning to pour into Heis. The first group on stage is Rho and the only people here are the pledges because Zayn brought them here in the first place to get ready. Rho works on morality and team spirit; if Zayn’s the only one in the audience cheering for them, the pledges would end up falling short. They’ve worked hard on their routine all week and not knowing what they have for their brothers, it fuels Zayn’s curiosity and interest.

From the athletic gear and head band Kappa pledges are walking around the bar with, they’re increasing Zayn’s concern. They look too organized, and Zayn doesn’t want to say they’re too organized for a Kappa. He doesn’t want to insult Niall. What’s far more concerning is Rho not being here. And he’s drank about two pints already.

He sees a blur from the window, Harry’s sudden presence at the door surprises Zayn. He’s wet. Soaking wet and livid.

“Zayn! You’re here!” His breath escapes him; his chest heaving through his Rho sweater. It looks new and dry, unlike his face and hair. “H-have they started?”

Zayn flinches at the sudden whip of water droplets from Harry’s hair. “What happened?”  Zayn can see the other brothers rushing through the door, holding each other’s back and hip so they don’t end up tripping.

“Kappa happened.” Ant huffs. He’s wet too. There’s a pattern going on here; all of them are wearing new Rho sweaters and P.C.U. gym shorts. “They ran us through the whole campus, through the football field. And then they cornered us on the docks and we had to fucking jump!”

“And there were only fifteen of them!” Ben covered his face, squeezing his eyes and mouth. “I don’t know where the others were.”

Zayn rubs his temple, half his face wincing. “They were at the house… They took my goldfish.”

“How do you know that?” Eggsy raises his voice. All of Rho was surrounding Zayn for his answer and he had one name to tell him, and it wasn’t Louis’ plan at all. From the corner of his eye, he could see Niall laughing him down from the curtain of the stage with the pledges.

“Mmmm…” Zayn hums, his head hanging down, leaning left before it would lean on the right as he deliberates whether it’s a good idea to confess. His lips pressed together, twisting to the side. “I… Sort of, consorted, with the enemy… And you know that I-I’m dating him…?”

“Oh god.” Harry sighs stridently, and so the rest of the boys holding their face and hair back. Harry shakes his head, shoving Zayn to the couch. “Forget it. I-I’ve accepted this already, I’ve gotten past it."

That’s great to hear, especially from Harry who couldn’t accept a lot of things last semester. He's changing in different ways—slowly. It's a process for him. He still has the urge to fight Kappa and not over a game of pool or flag football.

The MC for today's Hell Week activity is Harry. Up on stage with his loose Rho sweater and shorts, the audience was beginning to wonder what's going on them. They couldn't afford to be questioned. Rumours start to spread and suddenly, Rho will find themselves in Kappa's shadow in socials.

Harry leans into the mic, holding his arms behind his back. "Hi everyone." 

The bar responds with a light cheer. Zayn raises his glass.

"The pledges of PCU's fraternities have something they wanna show us. Whatever it is, they all did that themselves. And any obscenity you see wasn't condoned the brothers themselves." He laughs quietly. "So let's give it up for Rho!"

The loud cheering started giving Zayn serious chills. The lights are down and there's a few chatter and whispering adding more to the suspense. The rest of Rho were quietly laughing in their seats; they had to be front row for this. They had to make sure Heis is filled with bodies and eyes to watch them perform. Just what they're going to perform is out of the brothers' hand.

Out of nowhere, there's a gong, a spotlight on Tyrese in a hoodie. Harry's holding his mouth.

"What it do, babyboo?" 

The vocalization of one of the iconic songs Zayn grew up to began and suddenly the pledges were walking out from both sides. No, they were strutting wearing wigs, some wearing black tank-tops, the others wearing buttoned shirts, and black briefs that end at their thighs. 

"Yeah, little papa you lookin' good. I see you wanna play with a player from the hood." Tyrese beckoned his finger at the crowd. "Come holla at me, you got it like that Big T-Dog, with the lead Pussycat."

The lead Pussycat must be Kyle because he's circling Tyrese with his hand caressing against his collarbone. The rest of the boys are holding their hip, walking with one foot in front of the other.

There were wolf whistles from the crowd that made Zayn unstable; he was shaking with so much laughter he couldn't hold it in. 

The chorus drops and all fifteen boys whip their necks to the audience, their hair in their mouth but they continue to walk that intimidating attitude until they're all in a line.

"I'm telling you to loosen up my buttons baby! Uh huh!" Provocatively, their arms raise up. Half of them rub their chest, making kissy faces at Kappa who can't help but actually cheer for Rho this one time. Zayn should've recorded it.

It was hard to keep a straight face when two of the boys were rolling on the floor, kicking their legs up. It could barely kick up straight but they went with it, exchanging other legs. Them attempting to sing a song that's far more sexier than the colour red or silk was very difficult to listen to without laughing. Their voice would suddenly hitch up at the end of certain words; half the time their voice broke. Yet, Zayn had to give it to them. He had to give them this whole entire performance.

"I'm a sexy mama," The crowd repeats Mama, and the Rho pledges slap their bums at the crowd. 

"Who knows just how to get what I wanna." Wanna. The boys slide their fingers down their chest.

"What I want to do is spring this on ya." _On ya._ This is when they rip their shirts off and throw it at Kappa. Liam's button shirt falls on Niall's face and he whips it on the floor, shaking his head.

The funny thing is, if Zayn was up on that stage doing what they're doing, 95% of his mind would definitely convince him that he's totally sexy with his arm reaching above his head and suggestive kicks on the floor.

That wouldn't be the case for any guy at all. They'd all look so stiff and aggressive, kicking their legs as if they're kicking Kappa on the floor instead. Rho boys but a few five aren't fit compared to the jocks like Jordan. Harry isn't one for sports but he's definitely in shape. The only thing that matters is that these pledges didn't back out on the responsibility of performing something for Hell Week when all they've done this entire week was humiliate them. They knew that needed to do this and they did, and that's why Zayn's cheer is the loudest of all cheers. They're impressing the crowd and pissing Kappa off at the same time.  

Tyrese is back for Snoop Dog's finale. The crowd starts to clap again, the boys start to snake down their stiff hips down to the floor.

"Now you can get what you want but I need what I need. And let me tell you what's crackalackin' before I proceed." Tyrese caresses Abel's chin before Abel tots away on the heel of his feet.

"I'ma show you where to put it at. Rho E. told me, yeah, I thought I saw a Puttycat!" Tyrese puts a hand over his eyes, glaring at Kappa's side of the room. "Now roll with the big dog. All six of y'all on me, now tell me how it feel, babydoll? Harry, Ben, Zayn, Ant, Jordan, Eggsy. You feelin' me?"

"That's my brother!" Jordan points back at Tyrese before he proceeded to scream his throat out.

Everybody was on some sort of high; nobody could stop yelling for Rho. It might've been the endless beers people took advantage of, but nobody cared about anything at all. Even when the song ended, Rho jumped on their feet—yelling and shouting at their pledges on stage who roared with confidence, and laughed at Kappa.

Louis ran up on stage, shoving the boys away because they rented Heis until nine and it was six. Most of them thought of having an after party for the pledges.

"Well. That was quite something, Rho pledges." Louis sighs sharply. "But the Kappa boys can do way better than that! Take your kitty cats off the stage and make way for the Anacondas!"

_My Anaconda don't!_

The stage lights flashed like strobes, and there they were—Kappa boys in their gym clothes. Zayn should've known it was Anaconda. Such a cliché.

_My Anaconda don't!_

"My Anaconda don't want none unless you got buns, hun!" They pointed at Rho, bouncing their knees before they mooned Zayn and the rest of the Rho boys in front row. That's fucking great.

Just like Kappa who had to take the pledges taunts like the kisses and the butt slaps, Rho had to sit there and take Kappa's well-mimicked choreography of Anaconda by Tricia Morgan. Like little bits where they used the arm for a gun, Kappa pledges pointed it at them before they did some other hip popping, feet work, before they jump roped a step back before they did some hardcore crumping that amplified the crowd. There was nothing against using someone else's choreography. But Zayn's allowed to worry because for a choreography like the one the internet with the three girls killing it, fifteen pledges attempting to do the exact same thing without missing a beat can obviously impress a lot of people. 

One dance that’s funny versus one that's insanely good—that's hard to decide on.

He must have dozed off without paying much attention to the pledges; he didn't want to give in to their little routine. But somehow, it was like they did. 

It was the last minute of Anaconda where the flow of the beat changed. It was just the base, and not the sudden rhythmic beats you hear at the beginning of the song. There was a chair on stage that left him wondering until he was the one being pulled from his seat by the Kappa pledges who made him sit down right then and there—in front of the crowd, a part of a performance he never gave his permission to be a part of. 

"Oh my god." Zayn hides his face, laughing behind his hands that couldn't watch the lap dance that was happening on him. A plush faux booty grinding on him, doing god knows what awful things on his lap. 

He didn't know who this pledge was twerking on him; he has never seen him before in his life. But he was one to make his face red and hot, and Zayn realized he just had to take the lap dance given to him by Kappa pledges. 

They messed his hair, dragged their hands over his chest from his stomach to his shoulder, and shoved their faux plush booties in his face while everyone watched. If that wasn't humiliating enough, all he could hear is, _"fuck the bougie bitches in the club!"_ He thinks that was towards Rho.

Fuck the bougie bitches, fuck the bougie bitches in the club.

And just like that, they walked away from him and Zayn was left with his hand over his face, quietly laughing, letting his chest heave each laugh Zayn's forcing out. 

He had one thing to say.

_Fuck these Kappa bitches in the club._

—

Zayn thinks for about a minute while he's in his room. By now, Rho's plotting to put them on Greek Death Row and avoid anything that has to do with Kappa. And with the rivalry blowing up worse than ever, an assault would be perfect right now. Louis is stupid not to think Rho would hit on Zayn's birthday. That'll leave Kappa unexpected. How tactical. Niall's been texting him the entire day so they could do something for his birthday and he answers that they'll definitely go out for dinner before he stopped replying.

Zayn runs to Harry's room to plan schematics and tactics on tonight's assault with Ant, Ben, Jordan, and Eggsy. It's going involve Aunt Jemima's help with a side of Heinz's Ketchup. 

The dinner didn't happen and it seemed like it didn't matter when Niall didn't inquire about his missing presence at his door at 8. At the break of midnight, leaving their house unattended with a massive party happening inside, out comes Rho in Kappa's bushes—head to toe, wearing all black to match the midnight shadows. Zayn pulls out his black painted water gun filled with mayonnaise and eggs, does two pumps before he turns to Harry.

"I can't fucking breathe under these ninja masks." Harry mumbles.

"Stay alert boys." Ant whispers. He's got two water guns in both hands, filled with fish water and vinegar. "Go for the gold." Zayn's goldfish that is. He really wants Orange back.

"Roger that." Eggsy whispers back, who's ducked beside Zayn. 

"Alright," Zayn brings his phone to his mouth. "Lone Wolf, go for the door." 

Liam's got a long way to go to be a part of the Wolf Gang. He's Lone Wolf for now, playing on his own team for the benefit of Rho. He's also bait and the first target.

"Team Alpha's going in." Harry, Kyle, Abel, and Ant are the first to go in after Liam. The bushes shuffle from their movement, but lights are still off, and nobody suspects a thing.

Until Team Alpha's rushing in—there's shouting and yelling, and the rest of the pack are moving up front. Zayn's not stupid; he's not going in without his guard down. He's going to let Kappa waste whatever ammo they have all on Team Alpha, think it's a separate plan. If Harry's up front, everyone will just think it's just for the sake of nothing. No. It's personal now.

It's a stand-by at the side of the house. Zayn could hear Team Alpha rushing out, Harry snickering his way towards the West Wing of the house. They've got a few people at the back entrance too.

"Smoke bomb has been planted, dude. They mus've suspected us because they got water balloons and slingshots. They're weak but there's a lot of them—thirty men. Pledges included." He gives Zayn the status report. If that's all they have, then it's nothing compared to what they have.

"Ten seconds to detonation." Zayn whispers, pulling the gas mask over his face. "Masks on, and wait for my call."

Harry pulls his mask down. He nudges Zayn with his elbow. "Quite the plan, mate. I'll give you this one." 

It's artful, is what he'll call it. Zayn gives him a fist bump—to celebrate Kappa's early defeat. Eggsy gives him the signal—just as the Kappa boys start to retch and groan. Classic Stink bomb designed by Eggsy and Liam. Zayn never got the chance to smell it nor was he interested when a sample was offered. With the screaming and the need for Febreeze, it was go time.

"All teams, fall in!" Zayn shouts through his masks.

The first five all rush in. They've got their water guns pumped, and they're shooting at the first movement they see. Their concoctions of liquid stream across their living room like ribbons. The second wave comes in—offering back up support for the third who rush in for the gold.

"I'm gonna puke!" Lucas yells. He's somewhere here. Zayn can't see anything but black figures breaking into Kappa's living room. 

Ant yells "Oh shit!" Before he could hit the ground. Zayn turns his way, shooting at who seems to be Jake on the face with his mayonnaise-egg combo. Fucking marbles—how classy.

"Zayn, I cannot fucking believe you!" The voice yells, and Zayn suddenly feels a thick liquid explode over his attire.

He turns to the direction of the water balloon, only to be lunged by Niall. He drops his gun and fights back, trying to free himself from Niall's grasp. Smashed against the wall, Zayn takes one of Kappa's balloons—smacking it right on Niall's head.

"Oh, you piece of shit!" Niall drags him to his left and he falls into a room—his body landing on boxes and a broom. Zayn kicks his foot out at Niall, as he's pushing himself up from the mess. 

"Payback's a piece of shit. You better fucking eat it!" Zayn's words strain against Niall's force.

"Yeah, it's you! You're the manure!" Out of nowhere, Niall slams Zayn's head with a tin bucket. The clang echoes and Zayn exclaims a painful groan. Niall watches him fall to the floor and he shuts him in, including himself inside.

Niall rips his mask off, along with the ninja mask before he could switch the lights on. Zayn's suddenly blind—like a star just exploded right in front of him and now his eyeballs are burning. 

"Oh my god." Zayn cups his face. He can smell the bomb and it's definitely not most alluring smell he's ever whiffed. He looks at Niall who's got chocolate syrup all over his head with a few other sticky residue that he has no idea what it is.

"I fucking hate you!" Niall shouts over the shouting that's happening outside. He's got his face buried into his elbow, the neck-rim of his t-shirt covering his nose as well.

"Give me my fish back!" Zayn sucks a deep breath from his mouth.

"Do you think your boys have the right one?" Niall crouches down against the door, levelling right down with Zayn, smacking his chocolatey hands on his face. "What if there's other fish just like Orange around this house?"

Zayn hides his face behind his elbow. He tries to push Niall away while he continues hold his breath in. "Fuck you! And that stupid lap dance of yours."

"My little brother did that for me." Niall chuckles. "He told me that you were going to be a part of the show. Surprised me, you know. You did great."

"I can't believe you let that happen to your boyfriend."

"Tell me you love me then."

"Fuck off." Zayn shoves Niall on his back. He crawls out of the door, his face smacked with a stench he won't be able to get cleaned out of his clothes.

But the house was empty when he got out. From the reflection of the lights, there were liquids of different types all over the floor, stains on their couch and syrup on the palm of Zayn's hand. His head doesn't hurt as much; there's just a vibration going on from the tin bucket smacked against his head. It doesn't feel real to him at all, as if it went through his head because it was so thin and light.

Then he was completely pinned on the wall by Niall's shoulder, breaths dragging out of his mouth. He shouldn't be so exhausted.

"Ow! Let me go!" Zayn grumbles with his lips awkwardly pressed on the wall.

"How the fuck am I supposed to get rid of the smell?" Niall slaps the back of Zayn's head, unpinning his body off Zayn's back. Since Kappa went chasing off Rho to the docks again, Niall's pretty sure he's left to clean the house. Somehow, they'll end up blaming Niall for this.

"Use some Axe." Zayn wipes the thick chocolate smear off his face. He hasn't felt this disgusting since his Hell Week. 

Niall didn't laugh at that failed attempt to forget about the smell; he ran his hand through his stiff sticky hair that felt like a hard knot. Then he looked at Zayn who had chocolate and syrup all over his face—continuing to wipe his face with his sleeve.

"You good?" Niall could empathize the disgust Zayn was feeling.

He nods, making his way through Kappa's cluttered hall. For a house that potentially has 30 people living in here, it was very clean and kept. All before Rho came in here spraying their concoctions. "I'm gonna go home and take a shower."

"Just wait." Niall breathes out, trying to step over the ribbon of syrups on the floor. "Help me clean up the floor.

Zayn wants to say no in about seven different languages for Niall to understand that this is something he doesn't want to do tonight. But if he's being honest, this might have been the nicest Niall's been since this week started. What they're lacking of right now is time together, ever since they came back from L.A.

Zayn had managed to help Niall mop up the entrance and the living room floor; wipe the syrups off the table and small creases of little trophies and decorations. It was half an hour past midnight, and Kappa still hasn't come back from chasing Rho around with their pitchforks and torches. But he continued to mop down their floors.

Niall tapped him on the shoulder while he was in the middle of cleaning Kappa's coffee table, to turn at something delightful in eyes. Niall who he hasn't admired in weeks, exhausted from whatever he's been doing this entire day for him not to wish him a happy birthday. He's not one to hold grudges because he's here now, in his house where something should have been happening to him; it's very much Niall's responsibility to torture him and beat him in every way for coming in here. He doesn't. Niall embraces him, letting his head lean against Zayn's head.

"Shower with me." Niall proposes. Zayn begins to laugh through his breath.

"You know I can't stay." Kappa will kill him. Or even worse—poke at him until he spills Rho's secrets.

Niall speaks right into his ear. "I was really serious about dinner." 

"Restaurants are all closed. It's also pretty late to have dinner don't you think?" He leans away from Niall when the air from his mouth on his ear starts to tickle.

"The plan was to have dinner here, actually. I have cold take-out upstairs, your favourite movies and songs in my phone, and my bed all upstairs in my room for your birthday." Niall tightens his arms around Zayn. "My turn to celebrate with you."

"Why so late at night?" Zayn asks. "It's not even my birthday anymore." He doesn't even bother Niall with his presence in Kappa's house. They both know it's already forbidden.

"'Cause I sort of miss having you around to wake up to. And miss pressing myself even more against you when it's three in the morning."

"Oh shucks, Nialler." Zayn can't hide the smile he has on his face. He starts to softy sing, "You love me, you wanna kiss me, make love to me."

Niall doesn't fight the song. He pulls away, pulling Zayn closer with his arm as he takes steps backwards to the stairs. "Coming up or what then?"

"Yeah, I'll take your offer on the nightcap." Literally, in the two definitions he's aware of. He follows Niall upstairs, hoping his ninja costume isn't leaving any sticky residue around.

"You're good with green tea?" Niall pushes the door open to their lemon-scented bathroom. 

Zayn's good with any drink. Green tea will definitely put him to sleep. Especially after a warm shower, the steam still lingering over his skin. With the house purposefully empty for Niall, Zayn can press him against the tiled half-wall splitting the other two showers on both sides, kiss him deeply and carefully with Niall's leg pressed on his hip, Zayn's hand squeezing his soft flesh just at the back of his knee. 

With the soap rinsed off, Zayn can smell the sharp citrus off Niall's skin, making it hard to kiss Niall without wanting to go off the record—kiss him on his neck instead. But then, he'll immediately miss his Niall's lips pressed between Zayn, feel the little droplets from Niall's lips hang between the space of his mouth until Zayn could kiss him harder and harder until his lips are as pink as his skin under Zayn's grip on his leg.

"I can feel my fingers pruning." Niall chuckles quieter than a whisper, deeper that his voice is droning. His fingers gently caress the curve of Zayn's jaw; careful and tender on his skin. Niall's fingers look so fragile on it, a visage so sharp like Zayn's could cut his finger if he's not gentle.

Niall might be exaggerating because Zayn is the one that always looks so easy to break. For someone who's gone through a lot over the past few years, he's filled with so much love to share and Niall's lucky to have that beauty around.

There's a soft moan from Niall's mouth as soon as Zayn moved his hips forward. The feeling didn't sneak up on either of them; it was already there, making its way up their spine. The more Zayn moved, the tighter their dicks were getting and it was beginning to pool in their stomachs—a thick yet light liquid thats sloshes back and forth so easily the more Zayn let their dicks press together, let the skin of their bellies do the work against the steaming shower.

Zayn's hand moved to the meat of Niall's thighs, the pressure of his fingers pressing down easily bruises Niall's skin. The hand tightens and so does the space between their bodies. And he likes nothing more than to feel Niall's uneasy breathing and incoherent moans, feel the heat and soft blow of air escape between Niall's lips. He tries to match his breathing pace, let his breath hitch over his own mouth, let it wisp on Niall's lips. It breaks the more he's pushing and rubbing, slow throbbing Zayn takes in his hand, stroking both their shaft, his grip easily twisting as he slides up. 

He planned to take his time and enjoy it. But now he's thinking about the possibilities of just chilling in Niall's room—eating whatever take-out he has that he doesn't care if it's been waiting for them since 10pm, watching whatever movie Niall thinks is Zayn's favourite. And then the bed, where he's actually able to sleep on until the next morning before Kappa decides he's Rho and not Niall's boyfriend. 

So it rushes altogether—the kissing Niall pulls him in by the hair with; their mouths are warm and sweet, slow with a sense of pressure Zayn likes on his tongue that isn't too soft or too hard. What the only rush is Zayn's grip squeezing up their dicks, as if he's wringing them out to spill. It's working on Niall, especially with the way his thumb rolls on his tip, making sure it fits right between the slit. He doesn't realize his hand isn't wholly around his own dick anymore, but Niall's with an exception of his fingertips tracing his own dick. He presses his thumb around the head, circling all over his sensitive skin until he's feeling his hot, milky cum trying to gush from his tip, the one Zayn's thumb is still squeezing. 

Niall had his eyes shut the whole time, and Zayn met his eyes when he looked up from watching his cum spurt out, the heat warming over his dick with the sight of it laced and covered thick with his cum before the shower washed it all off from his hands and Niall's dick.

It almost worried Zayn how serious Niall looked after he opened his eyes; the blue in his eyes were dark and his pupils were blown out. He looked deadpan and unimpressed, but his hands seemed to care with the way it held his nape, his fingers twirling in Zayn's hair.

Even when he sank down to his knees, Niall kept the gaze. Zayn's eyes followed his head down and Niall wasn't looking anymore; his tongue was too busy teasing Zayn's dick. His tongue felt like it was barely touching him, like it was afraid to trace over Zayn's dick. When his tongue flicked off his head, Niall licked his lips, and it was ultimately the most obscene thing he's ever seen so he shut his eyes, his hands gripping the half-wall. 

Niall sucked him hard, his head bobbing fast as it can, mouth doing wonders, a mouth too good for this world. Niall's hands wrapped around his entire hips and Zayn wasn't sure if he was thrusting his dick down Niall's throat or if Niall was doing it to himself. But he was moaning through it, making these sounds for Zayn because he knows he likes Niall loud. Niall left a lasting feeling when his mouth popped off his head—it was tight and it just made Zayn's dick throb even more. He kept his mouth on, let his tongue swivel around it while his fist held the base. It seems like Niall was having all sorts of ideas, swallowing Zayn down from the back of his throat before he'd carefully come up and let his mouth and tongue play around his head until he'd wrap his entire mouth around again, letting his cheeks hollow with just a small bump which is Zayn's dick. 

Zayn's face was getting too hot, his moaning was getting faster and louder, and ideas of fucking Niall against the wall was coming to mind more than the things that could happen afterwards. He wanted to bite him, mouth at his skin, make his face twist in so much pleasure, and he hates how easy he gets the idea.

Then he figured, it was hips thrusting his dick into Niall's mouth who took it every inch, let Zayn pound Niall's mouth in until Niall pushed him down his throat when he came, swallowing him carefully so he doesn't end up choking or gagging. He came up just enough for Zayn to still spurt all over his mouth and tongue, decorate his lips in the process.

"You good, babe?" Niall laughs quietly, his voice sounds hoarse and defeated. His face is pressed into Zayn's thigh, resting while he sucks his bottom lip in. They're all plump and pink.

"If I told you I hated it, what would you do?" Zayn stroked his face until Niall came up on his feet again.

"I'd split your legs open, just get right into fucking you." Niall wraps his arms around Zayn's neck, pulling him in where they've got their mouths on each other, Niall licking Zayn's mouth. 

He wanted that—his deep moaning from his chest, the way his mouth accepted Niall's tongue told him how much he wanted that to happen. And he'd love it rough—especially tonight where he can't have it anywhere else—make him go on his knees, pull his hair from the back, be pounded in while Niall swears and tells him how tight he is in his ear. He wouldn't care how much it'd hurt, he'll tell Niall he loves it, wants everything. That's what's going on in his mind, that's what he sees, that's why this kissing has gotten so sloppy he's missing Niall's lips, just getting the taste of his tongue instead. 

"Another night." Zayn whispers, gnawing Niall's bottom lip. "I just want you right now."

"Could microwave the take-out." Niall starts to laugh. He begins to push Zayn until Niall can reach for the shower knob. He turns the water off, watching the steam all around them, seeing it wisp off their skin. 

"It's Chinese food." Niall continues to tell him, having his hair dried and torso wiped, he wraps his towel around while Zayn's still making his way through his hair. "It's actually in those cartons. I've never eaten them from the cartons before." 

"I doubt the Chinese actually eat them out of those take-out containers." Zayn squeezes the water out of his hair before wrapping the towel around his hip. "Should probably microwave it. Like 30 seconds so you don't have to take them out of your cartons." Chinese food wouldn't be as great if their room temperature.

Zayn ends up borrowing Niall's clothes just for time being; his Adidas shorts and his loose white muscle shirt that isn't like all the other ones that are tight and expose the nipples. He looks like he's about to out for a run.

"You washed these, right?" Zayn brings the collar over his nose, taking a good whiff. It doesn't smell like sweat—just cotton which reminds Zayn of a baby. They must be using that detergent with the teddy bear on the logo. It also smells like Chinese food, which they're microwaving right now.

"Yes, Zayn. You saw me pull them from my drawers." Niall's laugh stifles. 

Zayn starts to hear voices that aren't his or Niall's, or the humming of the microwave. Kappa's back, after forty five minutes—that's a lot of minutes.

Zayn stares at them, they stare at Zayn. He's not sure if he should run. They look like they want him to run. They also look like Zayn just landed from his planet Mars and now wants to abduct Kappa.

"You cleaned up already, Niall?" Louis rips off his windbreaker, hanging it on the staircase railing. 

"Zayn helped me." Niall switches out the container of who knows what to microwave the last who knows what.

Louis turns, grinning at Zayn. "Hey Romeo." 

"Hey... Lord Capulet." Zayn winces an eye.

Louis turns to his house, who are all still staring at Zayn. "Dudes, chill out. It's just Zayn. He's just here for his birthday, and then he'll be gone by noon or whatever."

Suddenly, in a monotonous and scattered voice, they wish him a happy birthday.

"Yeah, I've got work at noon so I'll be gone by 11." Zayn shakes his head. He feels like he stammered there. He must've. "Thanks, by the way."

"The smell is still there." Lucas grimaces, glaring at Zayn like he's the source. Well, he's not the source. It's that bomb—probably under their pool table or fireplace.

"We tried to air it out." Niall shrugs, giving Zayn containers to hold. "It doesn't smell so much upstairs."

"Oh!" Louis remembers something. "I told Rho we're keeping you as our P.O.W. for the night. If they text you asking how we're treating you, tell them exquisite." 

Zayn starts to laugh. "Sure, Louis." 

"Now—" Louis sighs. "Dibs on the shower!"

For a second, all he heard was dibs, dibs, dibs and watched about ten boys run upstairs. That would only mean four people got it because there's four shower stalls.

Zayn wanted to eat in Niall's room but he has this policy where he won't eat in his room before he goes to bed because he's aware that there's no chance the container of food would end up leaving his room. Niall sits at the head of the table, Zayn just adjacent to him. The each of them have fried rice, and they just poke at the other two containers which is honey garlic chicken and what they called it in the menu, Bang Bang chicken. You couldn't get any more American Chinese food than that.

"Boo!" Zayn looks over his shoulders, grimacing at one out of the ten Kappa members who won't leave him alone.

"Tyler, fuck off!" Niall sounds more like he's laughing than he is pissed off. He extends his hand to the surfer boy still lurking behind Zayn. "Tyler's our social chair."

"Better watch out, Rho." He mutters, narrowing his eyes at Zayn.

"He's actually, not a creep. I really don't know what he's doing." Niall tilts his head, his fork aimlessly playing with his food.

Tyler sighs, standing up straight. He looks like he's about 6'1—holy shit. "I'm looking out for you, dick. He probably poisoned the food."

"The food that I'm eating as well?" Zayn shoves a timid forkful of rice in his mouth.

Tyler pulls the seat next to Zayn before he pushed it back. He went to the chair across from him instead. "Here's my theory. You poisoned everyone's food. You poisoned it with blowfish, scorpion, and rattle snake poison," Zayn's eyes gaped. Niall just chewed with a knit between his eyebrows like he's actually listening to this. "And you acquired an anti-serum for poison so it doesn't affect you. So then, you're eating the poison like yummy yummy. And Niall here, my fucking brother who's gonna die any minute, just thinks this is regular Chinese food."

Niall swallows his food down, keeping the same expression on his face. "If I'm gonna die in a minute, why haven't you done anything?"

"Uh," Zayn cuts in, look down at the table before he glares up at Tyler. "How the fuck am I supposed to get blowfish, rattlesnake, and scorpion poison? They don't sell shit like that at the pharmacy you know."

"I don't know!" Tyler exclaims.

Zayn shakes his head, leaning back in his seat. "And why would I use three types of poison!" 

"And the food is really good, so yeah, I'm gonna keep eating!" Niall nods continuously.

"Honestly, I'm just looking out for you, Nialler." Tyler pouts his lips out. "I don't wanna wake up at 7 in the morning to hear you died of blowfish poison because I told you so."

"That's like the most lethal poison out there, and it's going to take 5 hours to kill me?"

"What did I say?" Tyler sighs. "Just looking out for you."

"Dude, if I'm at your door foaming from my mouth, then I got poisoned." Niall shrugs a shoulder. "But I don't think Zayn wants to kill me. If he wants to kill me, he would have probably done it already. Where the hell is your southern hospitality?"

"I'm from Rhode Island." Tyler's eyes roll but maybe that's because everyone thinks he's from Florida. 

Without any more interruptions and awkward conversations with Kappa, Zayn got to actually eat. He didn't have a proper dinner because was doing all sorts of planning for today, and then they ended up throwing a party to trick Kappa which clearly meant he wasn't eating at all.

Zayn doesn't even talk about Niall's brothers dragging their thumbs across their necks at him. Somehow, they'll find a way to hear all about how Zayn thinks they're absurd and stupid and he really doesn't want that. He'll walk out of his last class on Thursday jumped or forced to jump off Kappa's plank off the beach.

The staring, the threats became something Zayn didn't mind having to go through. Something so temporary for a comforting memory he can take with him when he goes home. 

Niall's bed is way warmer and softer. He's got a soft blanket over his sheets, four pillows for his queen sized bed and a duvet that actually covers both their bodies. 

Underneath it all, Niall's got his arm and leg wrapped around Zayn as if he's about to fall. They're practically squeezing him and Zayn doesn't complain about it.

Looking ahead onto the side he's facing through tired, long blinks, there's a note that says happy birthday with a happy face. The longer he stares, the smaller his eyes get reading the note over and over on the transparent surface it settles.

"Niall," Zayn says slowly. "What did Rho pick up?" 

"I told you—there was more than one fish."

"So, this is Orange?" It's exactly the same bowl he has, exactly the fish he had on his nightstand before.

"Yeah!" Niall enthuses.

Zayn says under his breath, "I hate you."


	10. never too late

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It isn't an idea that comes against what Zayn wants. Between the seniors, they all know it's an idea that won't be what Harry wants, and what Harry doesn't want often twists their lives and plans. Especially when they make a consensus decision without Harry on board the planning, it won't come as something he'll easily take.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> suuuuupppp
> 
> in past or present cases, sorry for the typos and mistakes. i dont catch them all since i only do 1 read through before posting.

Once the weather starts to lighten up, that's when the campus starts to be the true havoc that they aren't in the winter. Rain or sunshine, nobody held back on playing on the soccer field or the track. As long as there wasn't any snow under anybody's feet, everyone was free to play. That meant the Olympics were going to begin in a few months, and two weeks after that, were soccer games. Tournaments lead later into the spring months, just like the presidential elections.

Even after all the problems that occurred last semester, it was still left raw in the minds of some members of Rho. As V.P. and the right hand of the President, Zayn attempted to ignore every kind of blabber the household was giving to him about Rho losing its name. Zayn couldn't see it like they did, as he was still wearing the name loud and proud around campus. They were still subjected to wear their letters and uniforms on special occasions. 

But as Zayn made himself more available to his brothers, everyone lacked character. Something was missing, people were careless, and that's nobody's fault. Of all the people in the house, it couldn't be anybody's fault but the seniors that have been left to lead the entirety of the next generations of Rho.

And as often as he'd observe Harry around the house, not a lot of things were happening without Zayn's blood, sweat, and tears being poured out into making events and organizations all work out at the end. As much as for apologies, maybe none of them meant it at all. It was the effects of the holidays that clouded their visions; they were back to their old habits and very distant relationships.

Like it was said before, Rho wasn't a house full of born-athletes. To begin with, it was either a scholar or an athlete—one or the other, not both. It wasn't something many could balance. Niall is only the rare few he's heard of being athletically and heavily academically involved. Zayn was neither; he has a 3.7 GPA now, majoring in English and Literature which he struggles a lot with. If he's motivated enough, he'll do a good job out there—especially with softball or soccer. He plays defensive positions very well.

The weather the past few weeks have been pleasing; Niall's soccer team has been practicing out on the field so Zayn's been watching from the bleachers. As boring as it is watching men run back and forth with a ball, Leigh and Perrie keep him company. Perrie helps him with Julius Cesare and he helps Perrie with Art History from the 1500's—as best as they can with textbooks on their lap and notebooks beside them.

—

"You missed the kick off, where were you?" Liam asks when Zayn finally sat down beside him on the bleachers. Out of the three games PCU Lynx has had all at home, this is the first kick off he missed.

"I was at the pool." Zayn puts his bag between his feet.

"Had fun?" He asks.

"It was alright," the corners of Zayn's lips curve. "Better than the lake."

"Of course." He smiles.

"So where's—" Zayn asks just to end up cutting himself up in the middle of his own sentence. 

Suddenly, his butt's off the bleachers. Niall had the ball now with his game face on. He moved swiftly like a hummingbird, dodging each obstacle in his way before passing to the striker who was Louis.  He took the opportunity to try and take a shot. The defence of the opposite team is really attentive with a strong stance. Before you can even anticipate that they won't be scoring yet, five of their players swoop in with Louis and Niall playing back and forth with the ball. Both of them were trying to configure how they'd get the ball in the net, making it a bloodcurdling moment for everyone. They were so close to the net but yet so far.

Niall's got the ball now, just under his feet. He's quickly trying to find a way to score before he can kick it back to Louis or the midfielder who happened to be Carter. Time itself wasn't with Niall when he finally decided to go in and take a shot. As soon as his feet lifted in the air, sending the ball speeding towards the net, the defence decided to take this as the opportunity to try and block the ball. 

Everyone thought it was a slow reaction from the defence player when he kicked Niall's ankle, sending him right on the floor. God, it was moments like these where he wanted a giant TV hailing above the field.

The crowd's atmosphere is mixed with both negativity and positivity. Some cheered with all the air their lungs were able to provide for that short second when the ball made it right to net. The ball rushed through, touched the fingertips of the goalie that sent him to a fit of rage. The rest were booing UCLA Bruins for their cheap kick.

"Yellow card for Donahue." Announced the announcers as the ref held the card up. Some cheered, some booed because that wasn't enough as a punishment. A red card is supposed to be given to this Donahue guy due to the past yellow cards but referees are always so biased.

"What kind of ref is that?" Someone yells.

"Shit!" Liam exasperates.

"Niall will be fine," Zayn furrows his eyebrows, trying to fixate his view on him. His body curling up against the grass, his hands gripping on his left ankle. His face twisting to a prodigious amount of excruciating pain. He didn't have to scream to let any of the people in the crowd know how much it hurts.

"What's happening now?" Liam asks.

"I think he's going to do a penalty shot." Zayn answers.

"What about his ankle?"

"I think he's gonna try doing the shot then sit it out."

"This should be good for him," Liam says with a bit of enthusiasm. "Scouts are watching. If he makes the shot, they're gonna like him for sure."

It seems like Niall's not even letting the presence of the scouts phase him at all. Usually, some perform more terribly than usual knowing someone important is watching them. Besides, Zayn doesn't know if Niall even wants to play for leagues at all. Yet, who cares? This benefits him in every way.

It's taking a while for Niall to stand but he's on the verge of it. On his two feet, he limped to the 18-yard box to do his kick. Zayn didn't think Niall was such a dominant kicker with his left foot—meaning the chances of him scoring with his right is not in his favour. 

The crowd's excited for him to kick. The cheering overpowered the jeers and it suddenly became quiet when the ball left from him. No one expected the ball to leave so fast but Niall must've been getting impatient before he fell to the ground and let the pain take over him.

"He made it!" Zayn yells. "Yes!"

2-0 set the match for the first half of the game. During the second half, Zayn sat out icing his ankle. There was no point for the UCLA Bruins to try and catch up. Not conceited wise, PCU Lynx also got an amazing defensive play.

Zayn excuses himself from Liam to see how Niall was doing. It's becoming a habit of his to leave his friends alone at the bleachers. They don't mind a lot. And Zayn doesn't know if he's allowed to even go down to the players but he can pass for a water boy, right?

Since it was halftime, the teams were going in there locker rooms. Zayn only caught Niall when he was walking in last with Louis as his crutch. The mascots, cheerleaders, and marching band are out on the field right now.

"Amazing Niall!" Zayn exclaims His smile grew, the corners of his wrinkling as he smiled bigger.

"Thanks. And I didn't even cry at all." He shrugs.

"That's the way!" Zayn laughs. "But it's okay if you wanna, we all saw the kick. It was cheap."

"It's alright," He laughs sheepishly. "I just hope it'll be fine after a day or two."

"Just keep icing that until your toes go numb." Zayn advises him. He has the intention of kissing Niall, but he's got sweat that makes his face glisten. 

Niall must've noticed when Zayn's face goes awry, and he laughs quietly. "I'll have showered by the end of the match, babe, and you can kiss me as much as you'd like." He teases while Louis' eyes roll at Niall. "Post-game celebration at Heis after the match. We'll hang out there?"

"'M not sure if I can make it. I've got things with Rho happening." For one, they were going to have a meeting about the Olympics and how to raise funds for snacks and drinks that they need in between the games. Jordan drinks too many refills of Gatorade. They also work to get sponsorship from companies like Under Armour and Nike. It all works out when he can say his mother’s name and get all sorts of athletic gear for the Olympics. 

"Not even for five minutes?" Louis asks.

Zayn shrugs. "I can't even stay for the whole game. I'm trying to win my house as well for the elections."

"You're running against Harry?" Louis' eyebrows raise. "Does he know?"

Zayn shakes his head. "No, not yet."

"You need to break it to him." Niall laughs, limping a step towards Zayn. "Good luck, alright? Maybe I'll come knocking on your door later tonight."

"Sure, captain. Just make sure you win." Zayn laughs.

"Give me a kiss. For like good luck."

"You give me one. I'm more prone to absolute failure than you are." Zayn makes a repulsed face. "You're also sweaty."

Niall scoffs. "If I kiss you, then you still get sweat."

"No, but I'm dry." Zayn gestures to himself. It's like dipping socks into water—he wouldn't do that. At least getting water on his socks isn't anything of a big deal because it wasn't necessarily a choice someone would make.

"I'm not going for a cheek kiss." Niall scowls.

"Oh my god." Louis sighs. "Niall kiss him so we can go to the meeting and ice your leg. I need a breather."

"Fine." Niall leans in holding Zayn's shoulder, pushing a kiss over his lips.

It wasn't fireworks and the rush of cocaine as usual, but it made Zayn content enough to go about the rest of his days without trouble. Since Harry had stepped out, Zayn and Eggsy had to lead the meetings themselves. Wherever he went this afternoon, no one really knows or took account of it. 

The meeting started off with the charities for the Olympics.

Zayn begins to explain this 7-day event. "For those who don't know, every four years there is the Olympics. This year, it's here. Before that, it was in Dartmouth. We entertain about 20 different fraternities and sororities. Each university is one team so if you haven't caught on, we'll be with Kappa."

"Great." The members mutter between their seats.

"PCU has won three times in a row thanks to Rho and its legion of super-athletes. And we want to go for a fourth win." Legion might have been over-doing it when there is only about 16 of the total 25 members with pledges included who are known for their athletic skills. Unlike the few such as Zayn and Ben who don't entertain themselves to sports, they do their best anyway.

"As the host university, we have to look for ways to provide equipment for the sports we are going to be having." Zayn looks down at his agenda filled with scribbles and notes. "I can confirm we will be having soccer, flag football, softball, volleyball, hundred, and four hundred metre dash. As well as the swim freestyle." 

Zayn notices the fear in crowd when there's nothing to fear for. "No one expects us to be professionals at the highest standard. This is for fun. As the point system of the games go, it's nothing complicated like what you see on television. If it was, I wouldn't be playing either."

That lightened them up. But he won't talk about the exhaustion throughout the week.

"So as we acquire the equipment, what are ways to get the cash to roll in, boys?" Eggsy asks while Zayn leans against the podium with his arms crossed over it.

Peter raises his hand. "Car wash."

"Something different that involves more than drivers and professors. Who's in marketing class?" Eggsy lifts a brow. "Equipment ain't cheap."

"What kind of equipment?"

"Like water bottles, matts, bats, gloves, goggles." Eggsy lists. "We have about 5 different universities and colleges coming here for the biggest event of the year. We are not losing, especially to those UCLA bitches."

"Could hold a party the same time as NBA finals are happening. Charge them $20, proceeds go to the university." Abel suggests with his shoulders and lips shrugging. A few agreements in the crowd come up—they all know everybody loves a sports night.

Zayn coughs. "We'll need Kappa's hand with that. And since both the President and V.P. are occupied as of this moment, I can't say that's for certain. We'll need Eggsy as our social chair to speak to Tyler to speak with them."

Carter casually holds his hand up the same time he starts talking. "It can't not be for certain. You're good friends with them, aren't you? You're even dating the V.P."

Zayn tries to keep his neutral face, attempting to keep his eyes away from Ant and Ben. "Harry still has a say on ideas. Suggestions will be taken but as far as guarantees go, I don't have an answer."

"Aa far as democracy goes, I'm pretty sure we want this to go through." Carter looks around to the members that are sitting around him. They're nodding before Carter could say, "All those in favour of NBA Finals Party, say aye."

"Aye." The whole household's hand goes up. 

It isn't an idea that comes against what Zayn wants. Between the seniors, they all know it's an idea that won't be what Harry wants, and what Harry doesn't want often twists their lives and plans. Especially when they make a consensus decision without Harry on board the planning, it won't come as something he'll easily take.

People like Ben and Ant who look, confide, and trust in Harry, hear and see plans that involve Kappa under Zayn's stead will come as a cut to half of the house as an infected flesh wound that'll spread to kill. At times like these, it willsay more to Harry than what Zayn really means.

They just need more plans.

—

At the end of the evening, they were held up in the living room watching Jordan and Peter play 2k16. There were times Peter would yell that he'd delete Jordan's point-guard and he'll get out of his seat just to tower over Peter and tell him to repeat what he said. Zayn would just laugh because Peter would end up pressing the start button to go to the menu just to delete.

"Pledges, this is what happens when you threaten your big brothers. Zayn, grab his legs. Eggsy, get the rope." 

Through the squirming, it took about ten minutes to tie Peter up from his chest to his shins. Ben taped his mouth, added a baby bonnet on his head before Zayn and Jordan carried him across the street to drop him off at Kappa's porch. There's no punishment like being handed to the enemy's gates.

Once Zayn rang the bell, the two mad a dash for it while Peter screeched behind his taped mouth. He'll live if Niall's home. If not, he's probably doomed.

By 11, he's ringing the doorbell. It's funny how he made it home before Harry did. 

"Pete—" Zayn blinks and his eyes gleam. "Niall!"

"Who's Pete?" Niall grimaces.

"Our pledge. We sent him over your house."

"Oh yeah." Niall nods. "I was getting texts about that. Anyway, you really can't invite me in so I gotta invite you out for coffee." 

"Alright." Zayn pulls out his black Nike's, slipping his foot in before the other while shutting the door behind his back.

He looked far more laid-back than Niall who had his soccer rain jacket. It looks like a hybrid of a rain and winter coat, not puffy as the ones he's seen. Not too long either.

An hour before midnight sounds too late for coffee so they go to a bar in the city instead, grabbing their own booth, nachos, and chicken waffles. It was a sports bar with a baseball game going on. It was packed and loud but they got their own privacy. He tries not to think about how good of an idea NBA Finals Party would really be.

"I drank one beer at the post-game celebration." Niall knocks back his pint, and tastes the flavours off his tongue when he starts to smack his mouth together. "Couldn't be too drunk coming here. But if I do end up drinking myself wasted, you drive." He hands Zayn his keys right away.

"Is your ankle fine?" Zayn tries to take a nacho without dragging the whole thing away of the pan.

"Yeah." He laughs under his breath. "I hoped to had faked it better so that guy could've gotten a red card."

"Oh my gosh. You're one of those!" Zayn rolls his eyes at Niall, his eyebrows narrowed together.

"No!" Niall tries to hold Zayn's hand from pushing him away. "It hurts. It feels like I walked and then it suddenly bent in." 

"Well." Zayn huffs through his nose like a bull. He keeps himself from smiling. "At least you won. I don't date losers."

"Hm, I'm not so sure." Niall fixes the way he sits so he can look at Zayn better. "You dated Alex. He was a loser."

"Good one." Zayn licks the gravy off his finger. "But now I'm dating you. I have no luck!"

"I'm Irish." Niall tells him casually. As if he doesn’t know that.

"Thanks." He meant that in a completely sarcastic way.

Niall downs about two more beers after their nachos and waffle chickens. His face is all red and hot; he's far from being drunk but being pressed against Zayn pretending to be drunk feels really good. If he looks up, he can even see the TV screen.

"How was your meeting?" Niall drones, playing with the empty glass with foam falling from the side still.

"Good. Told them we're teaming up with Kappa, looked like they weren't pleased." Niall chortles and Zayn smiles after. 

"Typical." Niall slurs. "We're not so bad. We like Kinky Boots too."

"None of us like musicals." Zayn has never even watched one

"How absurd."

"But they want you to help them with the Olympic charity. They were thinking that Kappa could throw a party during NBA Finals. Especially with that home theatre you have.”

“Of course. Great idea.” Niall beams when he tilts his head back to look at Zayn. “But, what exactly are you willing to provide us with?”

“This is more of a discussion for you to have with Eggsy.” Zayn rubs his thumb and forefinger together. “As far as I’m concerned, it’s not guaranteed to happen until I give Eggsy the go.”

“Why?”

Both his eyebrows quirk. “I need the go from Harry.”

"You haven't told him yet, have you?" Niall's eyes are idly watching the game on the telly.

"He's been gone the entire day." 

"You don't need his approval. Sounds like you're the new president anyway."

"Mm-mmm." Zayn hums in disagreement. 

He doesn't want to be president so fast. There's only a few months until the nominations and votes and he doesn't want to spend all that time going against Harry and being seen as the enemy. Being friends is hard enough; knowing he could never really be the Zayn he wants him to be—the one that stands by his side willingly without a heartbeat and loves him without judgement. It's nearly too late for that, but he wants to try without ever forgetting that he was there  pledging Rho together on their first year.

He works eight hours at O'Den's the next day. He doesn't end up closing and Niall who came on his own accord, actually tipped him. Funny to finally see it happen, odder that it's his boyfriend who happens to be tipping him. He doesn't see it any other way and it feels morally wrong. On the other hand, he really can't say no ad reject the tip. That would be stupid.

Eggsy didn't think he needed to because they were brothers. Since Zayn can't force anybody to tip, he remembers faces instead. What he remembers as well is he gave the go-ahead to Eggsy. And after the late lunch they finished, they were both in agreement to do the party at Kappa's, all the while Rho provides bottomless drinks for Kappa and 20% share of the money they earn that night. Kappa will make sure they charge $10 at the door and at least $2 for each drink at the bar. It's a smart idea—no better person to implement that than Kappa's aggressors. 

That's until Harry's name pops up on his phone.

 **Pres. Styles:** _We need to talk._

Zayn's home by nine in the evening with the smell of grease and every kind of fried potatoes they have on their menu. He's even got his letter hoodie on over his head, sporting bags under his eyes like he worked a 12 hour shift. In the restaurant business, it always does.

"What's up?" Zayn asks casually. He doesn't use any other tone with Harry. He tends to read tones better than expressions.

"Who told Kappa we're collaborating for the charity events if it wasn't me?" Harry queries. He really doesn't know how to converse anymore. Always straight to the arguments.

"Specifically Eggsy." Zayn shrugs, shouldering off his backpack. "But I told him to. Is there a problem?"

"Don't talk to me like that." Harry quips.

"Talk like what?" 

"You told Kappa we're partnering with them. Rho's capable of throwing parties and earning cash themselves. We don't need them."

"Kappa has very close multiple connections across campus, enough to fill their house with over a hundred people each party they have." Zayn starts to enunciate his words, annoyed that Harry can't understand this. "Rho isn't incapable of throwing a party, but as far as we all know, Kappa's got better attendance and their guests have insane drinking habits that'll bring money in, what don't—"

"We do not, make any plans with Kappa unless I have my say in."

"Harry, it's fine." Jordan shakes his head and shrugs at the same time.

"Unless you have a say!" Zayn's voice begins to raise. "You! Do you have any idea what the house needs! Your say doesn't benefit anybody but yourself. That's how it's always been with you."

"Zayn, stop." Ant starts to push him back when Zayn doesn't take in how close he is to Harry. 

"It's easy to be the right hand man, Zayn. But you lack the characteristics of what a president needs." Harry starts to scowl. "Do you think it's easy to walk around with your head held high as if being president doesn't have sacrifices?" 

Zayn swallows. "How do you know I'm running?"

"The way you talk about what the house needs like it's your morale duty to give back to the community. That all disappears, Zayn." Harry lifts an eyebrow. "Ask any one of us, we'll tell you the exact same thing."

"Maybe they won't, I don't know." Harry sighs. "But I know you, Zayn. And I definitely know that you can't handle when everybody's eyes are on you because that's what's gonna happen. Their reliance on you will grow, and so will the amount of failures you'll carry. You can't please anybody. The decisions you make can't make everybody happy. No matter how hard you try for a hundred, you leave out either the 99 or the 1 percent."

"Louis..." Zayn thinks out loud. The name catches Harry's attention.

"He told you that too didn't he?" A smirk appears on his face. "I was right. And that's what you wanna do. You always want to please everyone around you but you can't." 

Zayn hates the way they fight out in the open. These discussions are something to have behind closed doors. He never planned for it to get this far. Yet, the way Harry acts is so immature. It's just a chapter. His whole vendetta is with Louis and he won't let him live it down.

"But see, you already made your choices." Harry huffs. "And you're no different than I am. You chose Niall for yourself like I choose to stay away from Kappa for myself. And you try to balance everything out to look like the good guy you are but you can't and you're not. No President has ever been a good guy. You think your dad was but he just bought what he wanted and needed to keep good graces. We've all done what we needed to do to get where we are. However, some of us can admit it and not have to pretend."

There's a scowl etched on Zayn's face. He doesn't look at Harry; he doesn't look at his brothers. He doesn't look at anyone. His gaze is fixed everywhere but the pairs of eyes watching him. Harry is right about something—he really doesn't like being watched at all.

"So now you're silent, and thinking of ways to keep up your image up in front of everybody, aren't you?" Harry's arms cross.

"No." Zayn mutters, eyes blinking up to finally look at Harry. "I've had this thought for a while. The difference between you and I is that I want to fix my mistakes. I don't make them knowing that's how I am. I make them when I do, fix it when I know I can. And I apologize when I can't. Yes, my dad's money brought Rho to where they are. That doesn't mean that's what I've been doing." Zayn pushes his hair back. "I can easily buy the equipment we need for the Olympic events. We don't have to do any charity whatsoever. I know very well that money won't even buy me a second of you shutting the fuck up."

"Looks like we're back to where we are then." Harry licks his incisors. "Don't worry. This time I won't strip you of your title."

"Trust me, Harry. When I'm president, you won't even have one." Zayn scoffs, letting the smirk express what he's really feeling. 

"Well!" Harry's clap breaks the tension. "Glad we had this talk! Eggsy, tell Kappa we're not doing any collaboration and we'll see what else our V.P. has up his sleeve." Harry begins to yawn. "First thing about being President, have lots of alternatives."

—

The house is split between three.

There are Harry's brothers than there are Zayn's, and then there are the ones who need to be bought. Those are the ones who can't choose between the two; the largest group in the house. It's for certain that the pledges will become members before the election so they can have a vote in for their future president. If any of them kept up and listened, their best option would to push Harry aside. 

That's all he can think about in the library. It's a mixture between Perrie's art history class, his grades, his position in Rho, different ways to knock Harry off, how easily Niall's able to study in such a place. He could never be attentive as him.

"What's wrong, Zayn?" Niall asks through the tone of his droning without lifting an eye off his textbook.  

"Nothing. Just thinking if it's all worth it." Zayn curls his lips until they disappear between his teeth. He knows he's being too vague. "Like, is this worth losing your brother over to? Is this something I should go through all the trouble for? Am I doing this for me or is it for my brothers?" 

This time, Niall got his eyes off his textbooks, his gaze settling on Zayn. He looks down at the title of Niall's textbook, hoping not to meet his eyes.

"What happened." Niall didn't ask. He demanded as kind as he can.

"Harry called me out." Zayn rubs his face. "He said we do things to get to where we are. Some of them could admit that without having to pretend. He also said, I try to balance everything out to be the good guy when I'm not. I'm the bad guy."

Niall shakes his head fervently. "Zayn, he's manipulating you. He's using your—he knows how to get to you. It's not right. You can't let him. I'm not—"

"What are you gonna do?" 

"What do you want me to do?" Niall lets an eyebrow raise.

"Be the good guy that you are." Zayn tries to smile. "And I'll tap out when I need you. I don't want Harry hurting you too." 

"He already is." Letting out a deep breath, Niall leans back in his chair, pushing the bangs off his forehead back, gripping his roots. "You're a good guy too, Zayn. The kind that I wanna take out to dinner tonight, then make a bad guy out of."

"Really, Niall." There's quiet laughing from Zayn.

"It just came." Niall gives a smug and witty smirk. "But I'm not lying."

"I kind of hoped you weren't."

Niall had gotten the idea of a drive-in movie. Before wheeling into the area of parked convertibles and sedans, they picked up take out from a Mediterranean franchise. The only restaurant they have is somewhere half an hour away from campus and he'd rather order a whole take-out and eat on his car while watching a movie. Now that Niall thinks about it, free naan and an order of three types of dips would be actually great with their food.

"Hey, feet off the dashboard!" Niall smacks Zayn's thigh. He immediately takes it off. He takes his hand back around his fork, piercing it through a chicken kebab. They got the same take-out. Even the meat of their chicken is dark.

"Bitch." Zayn tongues his molars, glaring at Niall from the corner of his eyes.

They were watching The Martian starring Matt Damon. It's a whole two hour film about a human being living on Mars. Niall loves space. He doesn't know much compared to the rest of everything he knows but he'll try to learn as much as he can about space. 

Forty minutes in they finish their dinner, Niall's car smells like chicken, basmati rice, and salad, Zayn's chewing gum to get rid of the onion flavour. 

"I never had those dreams of being an astronaut." Niall casually speaks out. "Does that mean I lack imagination?"

Zayn shrugs. "Maybe you just weren't exposed to the different possibilities a person could have."

"I actually wanted to own a farm." Niall starts to laugh. "Like I really liked animals that I wanted to work on a farm. That's until I realized animal shit stinks."

"Cow or sheep?" Zayn's thumb traces the edge of his bottom lip.

"Love sheep!" The laugh burgeons. Zayn joins in, nodding. Who doesn't love the sheep?

What was happening was left to Niall's imagination. He really cares about this movie compared to Zayn who could've lived without seeing it. Niall had to choose, movie or occasional sex—a movie they can watch later in the comfort of someone's home, or the once a week sex that often ends up once bi-weekly or tri-weekly, and never in the back seat of Niall's range rover. Technically, as much as Niall claims he owns it, it's Kappa's car. They all share it even when the person who uses it the most is practically still Niall.

It's the riskiest thing he's ever done. Tinted windows still don't help the window at the front of the vehicle. That's why their car is parked at the most inconspicuous spot. Not too far, not right into the middle either.

Niall's breath sticks on Zayn's chest—his tongue and his mouth leaving traces of kisses all around. Zayn can feel his teeth wanting to sink down from the edges grazing his skin but Niall doesn't do anything but rub his thigh between Zayn's legs like Zayn's trying to do with his thigh pressed right in between him. 

Zayn's fast paced breathing are like moans to Niall's ears, and he'll continue to press him for more so he can feel his chest heave as deep as it can, until he can see the dip of his throat between his collarbone, rock him through until his back begins to sweat over the leather. 

Zayn likes that this isn't something they have to do every time they see each other. There are days and nights when all you need to have is a conversation when you're pressed together like anchovies. No one tries to make it an obligation or a necessity—especially when it's almost like their way of a goodnight together. It's really nice in its own way. But this is also something he looks forward to.

Niall starts to move up the same time his hand goes in Zayn's hair, pulling his head back until his chin's pointing up, and he kisses his throat, groaning into his neck the harder he's rotating his hips on Zayn. His other hand's gripping the backing of the carseat the rougher he gets, his right leg practically hanging off the edge of the seat because there's no room and he'll have to let his foot rest on the floor if he doesn't grip on something to keep him from cramping his leg.

"I really wanna take you home." Zayn whispers too fast and sluggish, jerking his thigh up on Niall to get a small noise from him.

"Yeah, I—really, want you to feel me below 'ere." Niall presses his ass back where Zayn's thigh digs right in between the cleft.

"I can." Zayn groans from his chest. "Don't mind if you got a lubed one though. I don't want it to hurt a lot."

Niall makes a face that forces his eyebrows to knit together because he does have one in his wallet but he doesn't really like using one. He got one because of UCLA's stupid prank of leaving condoms for the soccer team to find in the locker room and he took one. When something's free, you just take it. "We'll suck it up." 

He sucks it up until Zayn's got it pressed up inside of him half way. He's all sorts of happy that Zayn's sitting on him, tight and warm around his dick. He's seated up until his knees could reach the back of the seats at the front, leaving Zayn able to sit with his legs straddled flat on the side of Niall's hips.

"Ohh—shit." Zayn laughs breathlessly, pressing his mouth over Niall's. He doesn't move, he just kisses him instead, arm around his neck while his hand holds his face.

"C'n you move?" Niall's got a hand on his hip. Zayn grimaces; does Niall think he hasn't done this before? 

He does long, slow strokes that makes him groan from his chest again and his mouth part open. His pace gets faster, his face gets tighter, his hand grips Niall's nape so he can lean back and bounce his hips on him. Yes, Zayn can definitely move.

He moves as fast as he can, practically bouncing on Niall that he wouldn't not think this car would be shaking along. His rhythm is all over the place; sometimes he'll just stop slow down so Niall's nerves can feel him slide off and sit back down. Niall will lick into his mouth, smack his hand on Zayn's ass and grip the flesh until Zayn can find the means to slow down for him.

Every stroke he moans to, it's like the way he begs. Niall's not sure if it's for him or if it's really for Zayn himself; it looks more like for himself when he leans back, both his hands grip the leather of the seat, settling down like he wants every inch.

Zayn kisses him tight and loud, letting his lips give a wet peck down the corner of his lips, moving along his jaw until he's at his neck. He moves again, short and stammered bounces because it hurts too much with Niall stroking him and his dick prodding his weak spot at the same time.

Zayn gushes out over Niall's hand, the thickness dribbling out his tip and over his fist. Niall doesn't stop; he enjoys the stiff body hugging his head with his arm, hand holding the side of his neck, wisps of his heavy breath brushing over his ear with shallow grunts in between. 

In suit, Niall comes abruptly. Through what feels like forever, his body feels like it's melting, feels like his limbs are boneless. He tries to find control through fingers pressing down on the small of Zayn's back while his head tilts back, closing his eyes when the rush of sensation shoots up his spine. 

He hears a short burst of exhalation. "You can't be tired." He opens one eye; Zayn's making a face at him and it doesn't look nice.

He closes his eyes again just to hear Zayn laugh mockingly at him.

"You didn't even do anything." Zayn presses with the insults. He can feel his idle fingers pressing gently on his belly.

Niall shakes his head at him. That means he did. Zayn should've felt Niall bullet-thrusting his hips before he came—that's enough to tire out a guy. It might be the food that's causing him to be sleepy.

"S'appening with the movie?" Niall mumbles. His head still tilted back, his eyes still closed. 

Zayn looks over his shoulder, ducking to see past the roof of the car. "I can't see it. He's probably playing with the rocks."

"Okay. Whatever." He huffs, his eyebrows push together. "That was too fast. Was that like—fifteen?"

"Not really an ideal place to fuck. My neck hurts." He holds his nape. Sitting on Niall's lap gives him that boost. If he doesn't want to bump his head on the roof of the car, he had to restrain himself, occasionally duck his head.

Instead of talking, Niall just pulls him in right where his hand is for a kiss, letting his arms hook under Zayn's. There's pressure on his back from Niall. His fingers start to knead his shoulders and he's trying not to moan because it's helping him in the least. Still, he appreciates his fingertips digging down under shoulder blades, rubbing circles on the spot while they keep their lips pressed together.

Zayn keeps what he wants to say in his mind. It's difficult when it comes to Niall because he makes it so easy to talk to him. He wouldn't have this problem with anyone else. Kissing someone for many minutes straight usually means they want you to shut up. And it usually doesn't lead back to Zayn gently pushing his hips back and forth with Niall still inside. 

He will talk if he wants Niall to stop bucking his hips into him, but he doesn't wanna do that.

—

"How was your date?" Eggsy asks over breakfast. Eggsy was feeling nice in the morning so he prepared a club sandwich for the people who were awake before 7. Zayn was only awake at 7 because he got home only two hours before. 

They spent the entire night specifically not doing anything. They drove to the parking lot of the docks outside campus, falling asleep once or twice, looking at the nooks and crannies of the car, telling stories about their week, Zayn getting his troubles off his chest. Overall, it was a good night.

"We had sex in the backseat." Zayn casually shares between him and Eggsy. Though he knows his other brothers heard him because Carter choked on his tea.

Eggsy's nose crinkles as he chews. "While watching a movie? Wow. Multitasking."

"That's right." Zayn would joke about that being a reason people should nominate him for presidency but it's not something he wants to do so abruptly in the morning. And the last thing he wants is to make his relationship with everyone solely based on getting votes.

He hears the door open, and in comes three pledges with black hats lined up behind each other with grocery bags in each hand.

"I told them to go out for groceries like they're a part of American Horror Story for a few laughs."

"I'm supreme witch." Abel drops the bags in the kitchen before he turns to hit Liam.

Zayn giggles when he gets up. "Alright guys. I'm gonna go to bed."

"Didn't you just wake up?" Peter queries.

"No. I've been awake since 5." Zayn takes his plate to the sink.

When he walks past Eggsy, he gives him a loud whack on his ass with the back of his hand. "Zayn had a date."

And everyone was suddenly 'ahhing' and nodding their heads. Even when he wants to stay and hit the back of their heads, he really needs to shut his eyes for 10 hours. Although, something is giving him the feeling that this house will be catch on fire while he's asleep and he'll be the last one left here.

He's on his stomach for a solid two minutes with his eyes shut. But it's as if he's not allowed to sleep when his phone starts to vibrate on his bed and he shoots up startled.

"Oh my gosh, Niall." Zayn groans. 

"What." He says sharply. "Gotta ask. Tequila or Vodka."

Zayn mumbles. "Tequi'a." 

"Which one?"

"Patrón silver."

"How about a cheap one?"

"Something not Patrón."

"Okay."

"Alright, Niall?"

"Yeah, alright. Goodnight, babe."

Zayn doesn't press end when he lets his phone slide off the side of his face. Straight after that call, he fell asleep.

—

He doesn't wake up until it's four in the afternoon which brings him all sorts of things to deal with. Like for one, the entire house is on training session at the track for the stupid Olympics. Eggsy hired John which couldn't have been the worst idea he's come up with. He's the top athlete at this school, playing nearly seven different sports, only committing himself to the track team and cross country. 

The reason why it's the worst is because of his commitment to push Rho past their capabilities and go from skinny, lanky Steve Rogers to _Hello_ , _Steve Rogers_ without even any science experiments. He thinks they'll grow these muscles in two weeks training—yeah maybe. When he isn't looking, Zayn stops whatever he wanted them to do just to catch his breath. John will turn back not questioning him.

He likes John—one of the best smiles he's seen and he's funny. He has a great pout, the darkest eyes, and very nice dark brown skin. Even when his face is relaxed, he looks unimpressed. Zayn would mistake him as a student in the science department and he'll probably really be in theatre. 

Zayn gets a spot in the shower, washing all the sweat off under hot water. With the towel around his waist, he goes to his room with it falling off as soon as the door is shut behind him. Everything feels so slow and calm; he can finally breathe without someone doing so down his neck or watch his every move. This is going to be too short lived as always, accepting his faith in understanding the grand scheme of events. 

If there's one thing he's certain of, it's that he'll be definitely splitting everyone apart.

—

Kappa doesn't have a band playing, thank goodness. There's a soft balanced sound of the playlist people can ignore for the game or dance to if they delve deeper into the house. Those who don't tend to give a shit about sports; they're the ones at the pool tables and darts where the music is louder. Zayn's one of them, watching a betted game of pool between Liam and some girl—with Eggsy, Jordan, Leigh, and some of the first year Rho members watching Liam from the side. They're on the last ball and no one is getting the 8-ball to pocket in, no matter how many times the two of them say, "I've got this!" 

The crowd's nervous; once the ball is hit, they'll all lean in to watch the ball roll to the target pocket, under their breath began to "oooh", let their voices burgeon to "OH!" and it's anti-climactic than expected as the ball knocks off the corner of the edge and doesn't roll in. People are antsy. Mid-game, the bets started and it began to rise after 8 minutes since they both have the 8-ball left. Now people are just questioning why none of them are able to hit a pocket when it's been 23 minutes.

The game finished with Liam as the winner, the guys who all were all watching joined the other groups, making it nearly impossible to be seen with the amount of people around. 

It wasn't because Zayn had no other way to raise money for their charity case. Zayn had ideas valid and ready for approval by Harry. That almost made him laugh at himself. Approval? No. Most likely, he would never truly appreciate or approve anything Zayn says. So before Eggsy went to tell Kappa their plans to do this charity are cancelled, he stopped him—told Eggsy he'll be the one to break the news. His brother knows what his intentions are, and he didn't bother to try and stop Zayn. What's there to stop?

With two beers in his system, he's aware he isn't drunk but neither is he sober. 

Even when Zayn planned this night with Kappa, the boys—especially Tyler, would catch Zayn's glance or attention, they would swipe their thumb against their neck. He likes the gestures rather than being jumped.

Out of nowhere, he's being tugged by a hand around his wrist and he knows exactly who it is that would be the one to pull him away when no one isn't looking. He can hear the music getting stronger and heavier, see the lights flashing at its brightest—getting faster in the open space of the house packed with bodies jumping, touching, and on each other.

Niall pulls him right into the eye of the circle; Zayn already elbowed and knocked hips with somebody he doesn't know if he looks all around them. He gets pulled in by his nape so Niall can hook his chin over his shoulder.

"You've never danced with me before." Zayn expected Niall to whisper in the sexiest voice—he shouted over the music instead and laughed a little.

"I wasn't trying to have a dance with you. Ever." Zayn counters with a sincere smile Niall rolls his eyes too. Apparently not an excuse he can use on him.

"Oh, that's nice. Really nice." Niall pulls his chin off Zayn's shoulder. 

Before he knew it, he was pumping his fists up in the air with him, doing weird moves with him that he'd laugh at if he saw someone else doing it. Niall's doing awful wacky moves that Zayn follows in suit, wouldn't find himself in a million years to be bending and crossing his arms. 

By the seventh song, Niall's got his arm around Zayn's shoulder while his other arm hung in front, and both Niall's hands were holding one another. Together, they were leaning their hips against a table so they can catch their breaths. At first they started talking about wanting drinks before Zayn said it was too far to get, then it followed with Niall asking if Zayn had fun dancing with him—in which he did. Couldn't he tell by his whooping when Niall did something sick or the way he was shouting the lyrics out to the songs, making faces with Niall before they started laughing? Of course he did. And he isn't drunk—not so much.

"If it isn't the star-crossed lovers," Louis hums, holding hands with a girl who looks real decent. Never seen her on campus and he'd remember her face if he saw her with the way she was smiling. "You guys take the cake for being the clingiest couple here."

"We're literally just standing here." Niall counters defensively. 

"Honestly, I'm surprised you're still here. I would have thought by now you two would have disappeared." Louis shrugs with a smug frown. "Remember the conditions tonight, no sleepovers. The rule is especially for you two since I can't have you sleeping over. That'd be favouritism and Rho is not my favourite at all."

"Aw. Probably the third nicest thing you said about me." Zayn laughs quietly, not even realizing that he's leaning more into Niall.

"Don't fluster about it. By the way, this is my girlfriend." The introduction is more towards Zayn than it is to Niall. It seems like they already know each other. Seeing how her title is girlfriend, Kappa ought to know who Louis is seeing.

She gives them both a wave. "I'm Danielle."

"See how I didn't say, 'this is my girlfriend, Danielle'?" Louis grins proudly. "Only a twat would introduce their girlfriend with their name. It really cuts the whole purpose of 'hi, I'm so-and-so.'"

"Well, I’m Zayn, and this is my boyfriend, Niall." Zayn stares at Louis with lowered eyelids and a smirk. "Niall, who are you?"

"Niall." He nods firmly and pouts his lips. He gives his hand to Danielle and they both shake it firmly. "Zayn's boyfriend." 

Louis scoffs as he shakes his head. "This is the worst conversation I've ever had. Danielle, we are going. I only came here to tell you about the amount we made tonight which is somewhat around $300-$500. We'll deal with statistics another time."

"Awesome." Zayn nods.

"Okay. Bye." Louis starts to walk away.

"Lovely to meet you guys." She smiles right Louis' farewell. It may be quick but it seems so real and Zayn feels like he just heard a very wonderful compliment.

"Likewise!" Niall goes back to holding his own hand hanging off Zayn's shoulder.

Once they left, they figured Louis was right and decided to join everyone else in the backyard where they were all drinking vodka through the trough of the ice sculpture. That managed to get about a lot a people drunk in one go. Most of them Rho members since they never had these in their parties.

"Eggsy!" Zayn put his arm around Eggsy's shoulders. He turned around two seconds later to laugh with Zayn, although Zayn wasn't really laughing. 

"How're you holding up?" Zayn tries to keep him in one spot instead of having him stepping away.

"I'm fucking drunk so it doesn't count when I say that I love Kappa's parties." He groans, almost falling off to the side if Zayn isn't holding him up. This is really his first one.

"I think it totally does."

"Don't tell'em." Then Eggsy proceeded to put his finger over his lip and hush Zayn with his lips all red and pouty. 

"I think they'd appreciate it." Zayn laughs, walking Eggsy towards the door. He probably should walk him home now—for someone who looks weak, he must have went down that ice trough like a champ. Zayn doesn't think he left away from it the whole night.

"No. I hate them. Fuck—!" Eggsy suddenly starts to shout but Zayn's quick to shut him down.

"Shh!" Zayn chuckles. He catches Niall with Lucas who sees him first with his dagger eyes before Niall. 

"Are you leaving already?" He asks.

"I'm walking Eggsy home. He was just about to declare how much he hates you guys—figured he should be put to bed." Zayn turns to Eggsy's flushed face and goofy grin.

"You should stay home. And not come back." Tyler intervenes. His voice is dry enough that Zayn can tell he's not joking with him at all.

"Oh Tyler, you son of a bitch." Zayn grins and shakes his head. "Just embrace your love towards me. We'll bring it into a hug one day. When you're ready."

"Fuck no. Go home already." Tyler scoffs.

"Alright, be safe, Zayn." Niall gives him a firm pat down the small of his back. Zayn thanks him with a smile before he starts to walk away.

"Don't trip over your ego." Lucas shouts behind them.

He's really beginning to love Lucas and his awful outbursts.

It took Zayn ten to fifteen minutes to walk across the street to their house with Eggsy. It wasn't easy walking him up the stairs when all Eggsy wanted to do was stand, like he'd be teleported up to his room or something. He eventually made it; Zayn remembered to be careful enough to let him sleep on his stomach in case he needs to puke sometime in the middle of the night.

Before he can look up, he can already see the lights from Eggsy's window. He can't ignore the flashing blue and red lights outside Kappa's house that forces his eyes out to stare, hoping they'd go away but they don't. What kind of cop crashes a Kappa party?

Zayn manages to make it outside before he can see almost half the campus students pouring out from their house and backyard, all taking their time, trying not to trip over their own feet. 

What he didn't expect for them to do was arrest somebody. And sadly, that someone is Liam. He looks like he's about to cry.

"Wait! What the fuck is going on? Why are you taking him?" Zayn jogs towards the cop car where his heart is practically beating out of his chest.

"He's under arrest for D.U.I."

"Zayn, help me." He had one beer tonight. Zayn knew because he was there and Liam isn't the best person when it comes to alcohol.

"I-I know!" Zayn huffs. This is fucking nuts. "Look, you guys can't arrest him. He only had one beer tonight and he'd be fine by now. He's straight as shit. Look at him."

"Sir, don't speak to us that way. We're only taking him back to the station."

"This is a waste of time." Zayn sighs, turning his head back to the house—only to catch Louis in handcuffs too. "Wait—what did he do? He's over 21."

"Kid, unless you're their lawyers or something, stop asking questions."

"I'm fucking 21. Don't call me a kid. These are my friends and you're coming out of nowhere, arresting people as you please."

"Zayn!" Louis scoffs. "Just shut the fuck up. I'll take care of Liam."

"Shit. I'm so sorry, Liam." Zayn sighs sharply, pressing the bridge of his nose.

"I-I'm okay." Liam's already got a frown on his face. He's being pushed into the back seat of the car, followed by Louis' who rolls his eyes at the cops. Never in his life has he seen campus cops arresting anybody. It's fucking absurd.

He went inside Kappa where he found Rho and Kappa in the living room looking down at the floor and sulking. Niall's the one to catch him first, though he only grins at Zayn. Nothing else. 

"Everybody, go back home now." Zayn orders everybody in a stern voice; Rho eventually stands up.

"They took Liam!" Jordan exclaims.

"I know." And Zayn takes all the responsibility on that. "I'm on my way there to sort it out. The rest of you have nothing to do here anymore so go home and sleep. Especially pledges, get out of here now."

He doesn't want to put any of them in trouble. Liam's already in the security building tonight and he doesn't know what to do. All of the sudden he was beginning to wonder where are the rest of the boys like Ben, Ant, and Harry. He knows they're not sleeping.

"Guys, we'll clean up tomorrow. Just go to bed." Niall mutters. Kappa nods at him and they disperse as well. 

They wait till everyone's clear from the room to finally breathe.

Niall shuts his eyes as he runs his hands through his hair. "It wasn't all that fucking bad. I know we probably exceeded noise regulations, but not by a lot for the fucking cops to come. They never come. They don't ever give a fuck."

"Niall, calm down." Zayn's voice is soothing him slowly. It's not the sound of contempt that makes him want to blow up even more. 

He just sighs instead. "Why would they take Louis? He didn't even do anything." 

"I know. We'll figure it out." Zayn grins just long enough for Niall to nod. "I'll keep you updated."

It's a twenty minute walk to the security office on campus and it felt longer than such. Without music playing or being able to talk to someone could do that. He has to make it there early enough to hear most of what the stupid campus cops has to say. He couldn't believe they got Liam—1 beer, all smiles and a fun attitude Liam Payne. 

Harry would have heard about the predicament by now, make a huge ass fuss about their image on campus. He's deluded to think that everybody likes Fraternities because they don't—Fraternities tend to be exclusive, invasive, alcoholics, party-driven, narcissists in a certain way, sexists, and aggressive. Really aggressive. Fraternities tend to get a bad name everywhere despite the good things Zayn thinks they do for the school.

When he gets back, Harry will probably have so much shit to say to turn Zayn deaf. The responsibility would be all given to Zayn since it was his plan to go through the party.

He got there around the time Liam was sitting in a cell. He can't believe his school has a cell. Campus cops don't have anybody to penalize hard enough to put in a cell. They might as well call city police.

"Zayn!" He comes up to the cell bars.

"I got you out." After Zayn forced himself to sound like a real adult parent to talk to the cop to let Liam out tonight.

"Thank you. I really have to pee and that—" Liam refers to the toilet in the cell. "I'm not doing it into that."

"Do you feel like a changed man?" Zayn laughs. They say jail changes a person.

"Not much. I just don't wanna share a cell with Louis. He's very personal. He started talking about his childhood." Liam scratches his head. He sounds scarred.

"Where is Louis?" Zayn pushes Liam ahead of him. He made sure they were out the building before he started asking questions on Louis. It sounds like cops are just arresting anybody they want.

"Talking to the cops, I think. Apparently he’s charged with selling alcohol to minors."

Zayn shakes his head because that doesn't sound right. "We made sure I.D. was present when we were selling drinks. Whatever happened right after was not our responsibility." 

"I'm sorry. I wish I could've done something." Liam sighs.

"I-I don't know what to do anymore, Liam." Zayn hides his face into his hand. "What am I supposed to do when shit like this happens?"

Out of nowhere, Liam stops Zayn from walking by holding both his shoulders. They really only made it out the door. They could do more walking. "You wanna know the difference between you and the president?" Zayn can already feel a pep talk coming in. "You're fucking here. You fucking came for me, and Louis. You care a lot for someone who I thought wouldn't because of their position. I joined because of you, okay?"

"Liam, I know—" Zayn mutters.

"No you don't." Liam forces down on him. "You wouldn't keep doubting yourself if you knew. So I am telling you right now, if you don't know what to do—you'll learn."

Zayn won't be able to thank him without probably crying. It's the nicest thing he's ever heard lately. His cheeks are turning hot and flush, and he should do something before Liam makes fun of him for it. "I'm going to get Louis out. Are you okay going home?"

"Yeah. Not like I'm drunk with that one corona."

"Did they tell you what your punishment is?"

"Some dumb alcohol seminar-group session. 12 hours." Liam shrugs.

"That's funny." Zayn giggles quietly. He remembers Harry and him back in second year in a group session about alcohol consumption. Not that it changed anything now that they're 21 and drinking as they please without being the best of friends anymore.

He let Liam go and he went inside for Louis. By the time he got back to the cell after speaking with the cops again about tonight's party and its purpose, he saw Louis sitting there with a dead face. Even when Zayn made his presence known, Louis just gave him an empty grin.

"Dramatic aren't you?" Zayn teases. "It's not forever." It might be an overnight stay if anything. Not on Zayn's watch. The cop opened the cell door—they're rather cooperative now than they were before, as if they actually gave a shit about college kids drinking beer and liquor.

"Thanks Zayn." Louis straightened his shirt. They were walking out of there without looking back. This is really the first time he and Louis had a conversation where nobody's cussing or playing each other.

It was quiet walking back to Greek Row; it was suffocating Zayn. The silence isn't something he sees as peaceful—just the stillness of hurricane instead. They have to walk through the square to get back, the fountain the only thing they can hear with the wind gusting through the trees. It’s so dark he could the moths flying all over the lamps.

"So what's your punishment?" Zayn lifts a brow up as he looks down at their shoes.

"This isn't really my first time getting arrested like that so it's nothing new." Louis tells him quietly. "And since that's my fourth time fucking up, I—" 

He heard it before when he said thank you. Louis meant it a lot when it really wouldn't have in the beginning. So Zayn isn't surprised with the way Louis stopped walking and crouched right down to hide his face in his knees and hands. He sat with him, thinking about how Niall should be here instead of him. Louis won't hold it against him that he isn't.

"They're kicking me out." Louis sighs. Right away, Zayn's mouth opens to say something. Sadly, nothing comes out. What's he supposed to say? "I hadn't really planned to stay a fifth year but like I figured since I'm going to be teaching French, I'd get like a teaching degree."

"I'm so sorry." Zayn grips his knee.

"It's not like you're the one who called the cops to shut the party down." Louis huffs. "I'm just really mad because I know I used to screw around a lot in my first few years but like the one time I really didn't actually do anything, this happens."

"Wait. The cops were called?" Zayn is baffled. No one would ever shut a Kappa party—the thing about their parties is that it's open to anybody. The only people who'd called against Kappa would be people who despise them to death.

"Zayn, just let it go, okay?" Louis grins at him. It's nicer than the grin he has back in the cell. "I've hated Harry and Rho for a really long time. It's not worth the energy anymore."

"Harry's an asshole. It's not fair that you're getting kicked out." Zayn sighs.

"We all know that." Louis scoffs. "For the record, I do like you guys. It's just the stupid uniforms and pretentious shit you guys do that makes me gag. And Harry."

In silence, Zayn watched Louis poke in between the concrete lines with a stick he found. With the lack of words to help Louis, he tries to look him in the eye to know how he feels right this second. To hear news that he won’t be attending, all he’s see are his eyelashes; they’re straight over his eyes, avoiding all means to talk about it. On the other hand, they need to. Louis can’t be as calm as he is right now.

"I’m not really good with words.” Zayn hopes Louis would look at him. They’re the kind of friends to speak a lot of shit but never anything as serious as this. “I usually get in trouble when I do talk a lot or say the supposedly right thing, but I wish I can do something to get you to stay."

"Just do whatever it is that you're doing. It was actually nice to have Rho over. You guys were practically marvelling at the liquor going down the ice." Louis starts to laugh.

"We're not creative like you guys." Like look at Zayn's choice to fundraise for the equipment—some NBA finals party that nobody even really paid attention to until the end where half the room started arguing. At least that gave them tons of money.

"I've seen the uniforms." Louis snorts, his shoulders raising with. "Anyway, thanks for bailing me out again."

Zayn sinks down to the ground, letting his legs stick out as he sits across Louis. "I just told the cop that you have to eat or your sugar is going to drop low."

"How’s Niall?" That just popped into his head. “Don’t break the news to him. I feel like I should be the one to do all that.”

Zayn shakes his head. "I don’t plan to. He’s pissed though. Scared. Worried about you. He stayed behind to straighten the house up."

"Good. It's his house now."

"You know he's going to kill you, right?"

"He can fucking try." Louis snickers, and it sounds quite sinister. “You know he can’t.”

“But I do, somewhat…” Zayn disagrees without shame, shaking his head at Louis. “I’d be his accomplice, probably make me bury you in Kappa’s garden to like, keep you around. Kappa forever, right?”

They’re both tired, with no means of wanting to get up. Zayn should be back, expecting the absurd shit Harry’s going to penalize him with. Louis should surely be back to control the house he’s not ready to say goodbye to. Maybe something about this placid conversation on hard concrete ground at 3 in the morning gives a little kick in this part of his life where he’s not always doubting or hating himself.

It’s always nice to know he’s wrong. It’s also nice to know that the people who he calls brothers are people who he shouldn’t call brothers anymore. The lying gets so tiring, the strain he puts keep this image of what people want him to be is exhausting. If he knew 2 years ago this is what he’d be walking in, he would’ve stopped at the door and turned back, shut his mouth about Legacies and family names. Thanks to the few people in his life who don’t give a fuck about whoever he is—Louis being one of them, he can’t see him leave like that; to graduate with plans to stay, only to have that stripped away for some mistake. Not for Niall or the genuine friends he has who care and respect him all this time.

“You do say the worst shit ever.” Louis sighs, rubbing his face with the back of his hand. Zayn zones back into reality and begins to laugh.

“I told you.”

His phone chimes in his pocket, and he pulls it out without realizing that his brightness is up. Though it's easy to see the new text is from Niall.

 **Booty Call #1** : _What's up ?_

Zayn easily sends back a reply before he doesn't look at it again for the rest of the night.

 **Zenzen:** _He's fine, no trouble_


	11. paris

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "if we go down then we go down together, they'll say you could do anything, they'll say that i was clever. if we go down then we go down together, we'll get away with everything, let's show them we are better"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> omggggg, sorry i had writer's block even tho i have most chapters finished. i dont even think people read my stories anymore, let alone ziall, but i've got a great idea for a part 2 of this fic n i wanna get this over with so i can post the part 2 then i'll be finished!!! hopefully im done by chapter 15. i really dont know how to end this not in a cliche way. i kind of alrdy gone cliche with this but i cant go back now lol
> 
> if ure reading this, thank you. and i apologize for any typos! 
> 
> chapter title from the chainsmoker's song, "paris"
> 
> also smut note: ive cut some parts down just cus...it was so naazzty when i wrote it n it's been months and people change, so like :-) if parts are missing, it was there before i swear, im sorry

The rest of the week is spent on training for the Olympics with John. Now, despite the aching body parts and muscles, they're pretty good. Some have their weaknesses like the relay race—considering it seems like nobody understands the concept of jogging ahead before the baton reaches the next person. While people train on their weaknesses and mostly on their strengths, Zayn has none of that. He can barely run without feeling like he's about to die. On the other hand, the one thing he's learned is that he's really good at is back crawl since water takes away the effects of gravity and he can breathe while swimming. 

There's no real time that the pool closes except they do a pool cleaning right between 5-9 in the morning, and somewhere between that time, they do everything else as well. He's the last person swimming around 1am which he likes since he doesn't like people watching him swim.

"Zayn—"

"Jesus!" Zayn lets out a deep breath. He didn't expect anybody calling his name in the middle of night when the pool's considered (technically) closed. For now he's hanging about the jets where the pressure is shooting at his back. The pool is entirely 5.5 feet; it's deep enough that the water is sloshing between Zayn's chest and collarbone and he's already on both his feet without tippy toes. Someone who wants to swim in this pool, better know how to swim. He's barely there himself.

"I didn't mean to scare you." Niall cackles on, setting down his backpack and food on the bench which he must've tried to announce earlier.

Zayn watches him straightening his stuff out on the bench, peeking through his backpack. He has his elbows on the ledge of the pool, blinking his eyes at him. "You know, just 'cause I texted you saying I'm at the pool doesn't mean it's an invitation for you to come." 

"I brought you a burrito." He took it out from his backpack; it's in a brown paper bag.

"Thanks." The curve of Zayn's lips stretched into a smile.

"How long are you staying here?" Niall starts to push everything away so he can lie down on the bench.

"I was planning to stay for another half an hour." He's really not doing much but chilling against the warm jets. On the other hand, he hasn't really found the time to sit down and breathe after everything that's happened. "You should definitely come in with me."

Niall starts to groan once he gets up from the bench to undress himself like he's being tortured. "Chlorine makes my hair gross."

"You don't think I know that?" Zayn definitely has a lot more hair than Niall, and he can see what happens to his hair afterwards.

Despite the awfully cute tantrum Niall does pacing around before discarding his shirt, at least he's coming in. He pulls down his jean shorts and bounces each knee, pouting at Zayn so he could change his mind. 

He doesn't.

"It's fucking cold!" Niall hisses with his hands rubbing his shoulders. Nobody told him to jump in. Zayn would have but Niall's mind seems to have beaten him to it.

"You'll be fine." Zayn huffs. Niall's just exaggerating. He won't complain in ten minutes. "How's your week?"

"I got an 84 on my statistics paper." He smiles right after. "That's sort of why you didn't see me the whole week."

"That's great!" Not the part where he didn't see Niall for a week. He wants to ask him about Louis being kicked out of PCU—though his spirit seems too high; that means Louis hasn't broken the bad news to anybody yet.

"Thanks. How'd your essay go?"

"I got Perrie to help me so I landed an 80." It was 79 on the dot but Zayn likes rounding numbers, and he deserves that 80 right on the dot. Maybe if he didn't force his opinion so aggressively in the conclusion, he would have gotten that one grade.

"Look at you go." Niall giggles softly. "Just two more months and we'll both be cramming in for exams. I think I'm going to cry." The stress is showing through the circles of his eyes.

Zayn turns on his back and floats away from the wall. "Try not to study all the time."

"I don't. Not in Kappa's house. We've been planning the fair."  Niall clicks his tongue. 

"That's still like studying." Zayn stands back up when his arm accidentally touches Niall.

"We're going to be hosting the corn-dog eating contest."

"Ugh. I can already feel lunch coming out."

"Don't shit in the pool."

"Not like that." Zayn quips at Niall, weakly splashing him. It's like a flick of water that Niall doesn't even flinch from.

"You gonna be my date?" Niall takes Zayn's hand in his, and pulls himself closer to Zayn until he wraps his arm around his neck.

"Sure. Just no corn-dog breath." Down to Niall's belly, Zayn rests his fingertips over. His hand eventually makes its way to his hips so he can bring him closer.

"Okay, but I want a real date now." Niall moves to Zayn's side, holding his shoulders like he's trying to balance himself. 

"Where do you want to go?" Zayn can't think of anything. 

"You know me—wherever there's food." Niall grins. Out of nowhere, he pulls his boxers off around his ankles and pitches it towards his stuff. Zayn starts to laugh, only because he feels stupid for not seeing this coming.

"Alright. Leave it to me." Zayn starts to undo the knot of his shorts until they weren't squeezing his hips anymore, allowing himself to pull it down through his legs and strip himself naked too.

"What do you have planned?" Niall moves to Zayn's front and knocks their hips together. There's definitely something they both feel; Zayn tries not to mention it amidst their conversation. He already wants to slip his hand down and rub Niall's apparently, already half-hard dick.

"Hike through Forrest Park?" Zayn holds his hips for now. 

"There's no food there. And I absolutely will not eat wild plants." The grimace on Niall's face makes Zayn shake his head.

"We'll have breakfast at O'Den's and then we'll go off on our adventure." As if Zayn would delve into a forrest without any food on him or in him—it actually depends if they allow food due to the wild animals living there. As far as he knows, he's stuffing himself up before trekking a forest he's never visited before. Not when he was in his first year or second did he find the forest worth his time. Things change.

"Cool." His teeth slowly start to peek out the harder he smiles at Zayn. He gets both his legs wrapped around Zayn with ease. Glad this is underwater; Zayn can hold him without straining. "I'm so excited."

"Are you sure you're not excited about anything else?" Because Zayn is; he's squeezing the back of Niall's thigh where it could already be his bum.

"I'm excited about you sucking my dick underwater."

"I can only breathe underwater for half a minute so you better be—sitting out of the pool." Zayn looks behind him, there's not much of a difference since the water sloshes right against the edge of the pool.

"Where's the fun in that?" Niall grumbles quietly.

With his scoff, he squeezes Niall's thighs, digging his nails into the meat. Niall gasps with a waken look on his face. Zayn wasn't going for a sexy move at all. "Excuse me for not wanting to drown. I don't want my tombstone saying, cause of death: sucking dick underwater. I can already see everybody laughing at my funeral." 

"Pool sex is definitely not as hot as I thought it would be."

"It's definitely not." There's a lot of movement and planning. Niall must think this is going to be some porn video—hell no.

"I change my mind. Let's do this back in—"

"Not in your car again." Zayn advises.

"There are too many complications!" Niall huffs aggressively. "I just want to fuck."

"Let's fuck back at my house." Zayn suggests as if he doesn't know what happens when a Kappa gets inside. They know they're not supposed to. Surely, his whole house is going to hate him for willingly letting someone from Kappa in but he deserves a good fuck. They both deserve good fucks for acing their assignments this week.

"I don't wanna sneak in." 

"We won't."

"You're scheming." Niall gasps in wonderment. "I can see it in your eyes. Oh, you're so hot." Niall shoves his mouth against Zayn's very willing open mouth, moaning at the tongues licking each other. 

Zayn can't wait ten minutes until they get back to come; doesn't mean he can't come twice in one night.

Both their mouths deepen in the very aggressive and messy kiss, didn't realize Zayn wasn't holding Niall around himself anymore when he hit the wall of the pool and Niall grabbed his legs to wrap around him instead.

"I love you." Niall whispers when he pulled back long enough, still both lips pressed together. "Haven't said that the whole week, feel like I need to."

"If that's your priority right now, I fucking love you too." He pulls Niall back with his hands on his face, shoving their lips together, nipping and biting until they're opening their mouths together.

If there's one person he's really happy to meet, it'd be Niall. Yes, he pushed him down a hill—that's all that his mind wants to remind him and frankly, he's still really annoyed at orientation for their stupid trust exercise so they can somehow get to know each other better. He has cuts from the trees that he hit—like the one Niall's thumb is pressing. Despite the horrible things that he never did on purpose, he already knew there was something cool about him. He stayed with him in the nurse's office and took him to his dorm room even if he was capable of walking himself. It's Zayn's stupid self for ignoring him the rest of the years that they were able to see each other. Since Niall was in the honours engineering program, he lived with them—and there was no way some art kid would ever cross paths with a science and math wizard. Unless they saw each other around the main square then Niall would say hi and Zayn would practically ignore him altogether.

If he hadn't messed about so early in his years, maybe he could have had happy and nice before now, then Zayn would be used to hearing Niall say 'I love you' and he wouldn't have this weird look on his face for the rest of the day—stuck smiling to himself and ignoring everyone else. Getting used to that, would be really stupid however. Especially when he likes that he can say it as well and make Niall's day too.

He put his thoughts into his lips, found himself kissing Niall carefully and sweet. Niall must've noticed something changed, decided not to say anything to kiss him gently too. Yeah, that would only last long enough until Zayn starts to kiss him between his lips, keep doing it until he can nudge back and bite his teeth down and lick Niall's lips. And Niall would kiss him fast between his lips, tilt their heads together and suck his lips till their red and wet. 

Niall moves his hips back just a bit, still having Zayn around him with a little space between their hips. Zayn can feel the movement of the water between his thighs, noticing Niall's hand nearing over his hole.

"Shit, look at what you got me doing." Zayn moans after, gripping the edge of the pool with one hand. The other one is in Niall's hair, tugging in a pulse. "Have me begging for you to touch me. I'm saying stuff I hate hearing and batting my damn eyelashes so you could talk me to filth."

"I—I don't know what to say now." Niall's fingers stop moving inside of him. He looks confused, blinking at Zayn. "That's pretty cute."

"Oh my god. I'm done." Zayn shakes his head. He unwraps his legs from Niall and his fingers slip out of him as he reaches for his shorts. 

"What'd I do?" Niall exclaims. Zayn's putting back his shorts in front of him while Niall's regretting his pitch at the bench. "I just said you're cute."

"I know." Zayn pouts. "But like, you got me feeling all giddy about it."

"You're really something else." Niall laughs to himself.

It's not Zayn's fault, sometimes things happen amidst their little moment that he finds himself not to be in the mood to feel obscene of explicit anymore. Shit, he feels really high maintenance now. It doesn't help when Niall just stops like that. Zayn doesn't really care at all—as long as nobody is mad at each other. 

Zayn keeps his burrito for later which he'll probably end up sharing with Niall. Come to think of it, it's not as horrible as it seems. He may take big bites, yet Zayn can't forget about his generosity for buying him one in the first place.

The feeling of peace is slowly replaced with anxiety; the closer they get to Rho, the longer Zayn's second thoughts last about his plan to piss Rho off by bringing Niall over. Now, he's really afraid—not even for his own sake about what Harry would say or do to him. The last thing he really wants is for everyone to harass Niall until he's off, realizing how shitty his boyfriend's supposed brothers are. 

It shouldn't be dramatic as it is. Compared to Kappa, if they were strict as Rho is, Zayn would have never made it in, let alone be friends with Louis. Thank goodness Kappa's more accepting than Rho; his brothers could learn a lot from Kappa. It's not hard to believe they're assholes—they didn't even want Zayn to date Niall in the first place.

"If it gets uncomfortable, I can walk you home." Zayn looks at his keys and pushes it through the lock.

"Whatever happens. I'm not worried." Niall shrugs.

They walk in and the first reaction his brothers have is a hey or a hello. Looking up to see who it is proves to be more of a falter in their voice or a silence when they realize who's taking their shoes off.

"Uh?" Jordan hums, hugging his arm around a bag of chips. "Niall? Definitely a surprise to see you here."

"Yeah. Isn't it?" Niall decides to pick his shoes up and take it with him. The last thing he wants is to go home the next day in his socks.

"You really can't be here." Ben lifts a brow.

"No, he's staying. I haven't seen him in a week. You guys bring in random people all the time, yet I can't bring Niall?" Zayn asks with pure curiosity. All these strangers in their houses isn't a problem; it only becomes a problem when stuff goes missing which has happened. They should've made a rule about who they bring home but they didn't—that's how things start to go missing.

"You know why, Zayn." Ben mutters quietly.

"It's really not fair. And you guys are only against this because it's Niall." Zayn huffs. "It's shit. I really thought you wouldn't care."

"Hey Zayn." Eggsy makes his way downstairs in his pyjamas. He looks up at Niall. "And Nini bear."

"That's a horrible nickname." Niall shakes his head.

"Yeah, I don't care about your feelings. I have hot chocolate to make." Eggsy snorts disgustingly on purpose.

"Mmm, fancy. Is this what you do before you got to bed? Can I get one?" Niall grins.

"I can get you like tap water." Eggsy grunts distastefully, shrugging a shoulder. To himself, Zayn laughs stifled behind his teeth.

"Bet it tastes like Fiji water; because somehow, it's like Rho can't drink anything but Fiji water." Niall laughs half-heartily at Eggsy filling a glass for him while he stands by the arch way leading to the kitchen.

"Shut up. You'll drink what I give you." 

"Eggsy, what are you doing?" Ben queries sternly.

"Nothing, mate. Why are you so uptight for?" Eggsy grimaces at Ben while he hands Niall the glass of water.

"It's the rules." 

"Yeah." Eggsy snorts loudly. "Like I'm scared, mate. Everyone's been on their arse doing nothing this whole time, suddenly only getting up when someone from Kappa's here. How shite. I'm going to bed."

"Yeah, no one actually really cares if Niall's here." Jordan mutters, sheepishly scratching his head as he looks off. There weren't a lot of them—guessing the only people home would be the ones that don't have plans on Thursday nights. Harry would have stormed down from his tower hearing all this nonsense from his room with his minions Ant and Ben to defend him.

Many nods and shrugs came from other boys agreeing with Jordan. Ben just sat back down on the couch while everyone slowly went back to minding their own business.

Zayn, on the other hand, is relieved. He could feel it from Niall's stillness and empty face that he was ready to go home—maybe still is. It was sort of a welcome, not really a warm one but that's Rho for you. They can never move forward on anything—but for them to say they don't care about Niall's presence here is a big step forward.

Since the only place Niall's wanted in in this house is Zayn's room, they settle in there. He's the one who remembers their wet clothes and hangs them on a hanger above his closet's door knob.

"Hey." Niall makes his way beside Zayn afterwards, lying on his side so he can face him. He follows the shadows of his cheekbones before looking up at his eyes.

"Hey." Zayn turns his whole body towards Niall. He reaches for his waist, Niall's smile makes an early appearance.

"What's wrong?" Niall's foot rubs back and forth against his.

"I'm sorry about my brothers." Zayn makes a sour face. "I mean I expected it but I was hopeful that they wouldn't say anything."

"If it makes you feel any better, I get a ton of shit back at Kappa for having you over without getting in trouble."

"It doesn't. Well, it does but now I feel like we don't get in trouble because we're VPs." Zayn's hand slips down to Niall's belly, his knuckles slightly pressing down on his shirt. "Jordan probably hates that he can't have Lucas over but I can have you over."

"But if he did, you wouldn't care either."

"No. Lucas isn't so bad." Zayn really doesn't know him that well. "Tyler, on the other hand—"

"He really hates you." Niall laughs, almost rolling over on his back. 

"I can tell." Zayn raises his eyebrows. He gazes at Niall, who's fake sleeping just to get Zayn riled up. It works because Zayn starts to shake him awake. He's not ready to sleep yet. "I don't wanna talk about our houses anymore. How's your family back home?"

"Well. I told them about you, only to make it fair that your family knows me. But I also do really want them to know about you."

"What'd they say?"

"My mom's like," Niall begins to mock what is supposed to be his mom's voice. "'I want to meet him! The man who thinks he deserves my son!' And I was like, chill. Then I told her how you think our family is a bunch of sheep walking freely and she got super mad and called you an eejit."

"Why would you do that!"

"Pfbt." Niall sputters his lips. "I wanted her to yell at me. It makes me laugh. Is it weird that I miss my mom yelling at me?"

"Probably haven't seen her for so long."

"I only see my family every summer. But I get to see them soon!" Niall starts to grin to himself. 

"Aww, look at you getting all excited." Zayn pokes the dimple on his cheek just below his eye.

"Hey!" Niall grabs the hand poking at his face, jokingly scowling at him. "Shut up."

Zayn agrees in his head, but outside he stares right into his eyes before they follow down to his lips. The idea was easily communicated for Niall to nudge his chin right away and press his lips in between.

"Let's talk about sex, baby. Let's talk about you and me." Niall croons; he can't help but not laugh at himself either. Hard to kiss someone when they're both laughing.

Zayn snorts airily, forcing their lips harder until Niall's resting on his back, his hands searching over Niall's legs for the button and zipper. He can feel Niall kicking his own feet so he can take his socks off. It gives Zayn little space to slip his hand right between his legs, squeeze him through his jean shorts, circle his hands over to stimulate him, knowing he's wearing nothing under his shorts.

Their kisses are regularly messy and loud as always, Niall always trying to suck and bite on Zayn's lips whenever they're caught pressed in between. The way Zayn's on his side, pressed against Niall's body, he's got his head turned just enough to see his hand massaging between his legs while Niall nips at his lips, kiss him even if Zayn's busy with something else.

Niall starts to mouth at the corner of his jaw, lick his skin and let the tip of his tongue follow the edge of his jaw before he starts to kiss him under his jaw. The soft kisses that don't feel like anything but lips dragging along his skin and nipping makes Zayn swallow. He didn't want to zip him open at first, but it's like Niall's telling him to so he does, and pulls his buttons open and slips his hand in, palming over his semi-hard dick.

"Oh fuck." Niall exhales, raising his hips each time Zayn presses down and strokes him fast. "Take off my shorts." Niall snaps a tight kiss over Zayn's lips. 

He starts to tug them down until they're around his thighs, dick exposed over his belly. Niall considers it enough for him to slide them down himself and stand up on his knees to take off his shirt. He was feeling hot all over, especially his dick—it feels wet already and he can barely keep his eyes open without wanting to close them and lose himself to Zayn's mouth in any way. 

While Niall took his shorts off, Zayn found the chance to slide his sweats off as well, stand up on his knees in front of Niall who stared at him with so much sleep that he looks far gone already like whenever he's drunk. He discards his shirt to the floor and Niall immediately holds his face, leaning in together.

"I waited two weeks for this. I can't stand not being able to see you like this everyday." Each word makes his lips move between Zayn's lips; they feel like kisses to him that he had his lips parted from the second word.

"Are you going crazy for me?" He pulls in Niall's hips, his dick pressed against his thigh. There's pressure nudging over it from Niall's thigh pushing against his shaft.

"Mhmmm." Niall nods weakly and finally presses their lips together. Zayn's hand quickly slides up his back while his other arm wraps all around his waist. They start to kiss harder and longer, their breathing louder and sharper. 

Sometimes Zayn can barely handle Niall sucking his lips and letting his teeth nibble his plump bottom lip. Niall knows how to kiss him weak until he can't breathe and his mouth is willing for anything. They tilt their heads and shove their mouths together; he can't tell if Niall's moaning for him or for himself. Tongues licking together, Niall's hands both slide in his hair. The grip in Zayn's hair drives him to kiss deeper until it makes him sloppy, makes him off sync with the other mouth licking into his.

The rush takes him under Niall's jaw where he sucks him until his skin is deep red. He follows the pressure of Niall's fist in his hair down to his chest. His lips drag down a trail until Niall pulls him off and shoves his mouth to his nipple. 

Zayn does everything he can before Niall could push his mouth somewhere else—he licks his tongue flat on his nipple, teases it by flicking and sliding his tongue over and over until he could suck and bite him down. His other hand pinches his other nipple hard, twisting and rubbing his fingers all over.

Niall goes up to kiss the corner of his lips and Zayn tries to catch it. "You're the best thing I've seen, second to your face, third to the Grand Canyon." 

"Shut up." Zayn laughs. "Why do I love you?"

"You tell me."

"Because you're funny, unpredictable, very supportive and caring, smart, an asshole, always horny all the time, always hungry, you hate dogs—my dog, actually—you cook naked all the time or that one time—"

"You're getting off course." Niall slaps his cheek lightly. "I don't even know what you're talking about anymore."

"Just fuck me, okay?" Zayn huffs. "You saw what I was doing, I said your name, that was the hint!"

"I thought you were going to say my name again." Niall reaches for the lube and puts enough in his hands to stick down between them and rub his dick and rub the rest on his hands over Zayn's asshole.

"The next thing I know, you're about to come and I'm like what the fuck." Niall's eyes widened. The storytelling effect is real.

Zayn's already got his legs up. "Are you going to put it in or what?" 

Niall exhales as he rolls his eyes. Zayn's legs gets pushed back farther by Niall's shoulders. "Try not to come early again." 

"Sex is too good." Zayn slurs as he grins behind his hooded eyes. He wants to yawn but he really shouldn't.

"Yeah, with yourself!" Not so much with himself now as Niall pushes his head through, not pushing everything in an instant. Zayn probably deserves it for almost coming without him—he won't surprise him like that.

"Also you." Zayn assures him by patting his chest. "Also you, babe."

Niall leans down to kiss him; the more he inches in with his hips, the louder Zayn moans in his throat with his lips stuck between Niall's. The more he gets in Zayn, the deeper they kiss. Taking his sweet time, he grinds his hips back and forth without leaving so much space between their hips. It was for Zayn to feel Niall moving inside of him, remind him that he can get deeper if he wants it.

He knows he does; he pulls back more, gently pushing his hips back in, rocking Zayn under him so he can see his eyes flare with need.

"Oh fuck." Zayn takes a deep breath in, turning his head to the side, exposing his untouched neck. 

Niall ducks his head to lick his neck up with his flat tongue, start pounding his hips in with every inch coming in and out. Zayn keeps the noises in, chokes in down and embraces Niall heavily breathing against his face instead.

But then he starts to moan instead after each and every push, letting his teeth clench so the noises can't be heard by anyone else by Zayn. His mouth opens, the filthy noises getting rougher and louder the harder Niall continues to thrust inside of him. 

"Fuck me, Niall." Zayn's voice a mix between a whine and a gasp. Niall swallows it down by shoving their mouths together, though not much effective that they're just moaning into each other's mouths. 

Zayn groans, tears prickling out the corners of his eyes. The long hum in his ear coaxes him to suck a deep breath and take it all in—the noises, the tight, gut-twisting feeling in his stomach that makes him look Niall in the eye when he holds the back of his head. "Oh Niall, I'm all yours. Shit—"

Zayn can't think right now, his head is fuzzy and he's still slowly coming to realize that Niall's giving him what he wants. He always does—Zayn's just really sensitive and overwhelmed right now, being so close to climax four different times in one day but never being able to come like right now.

"Harder." Zayn exhales and tilts his head back. 

"I'm so close." Niall kisses around his neck, all of them wet and loud.

"Me too." Zayn swallows and shuts his eyes. He feels like he's rock on a boat, much so less than the aggression Niall's fucking in. 

Zayn's moaning gradually got louder until his whole body shivered, felt Niall's hips jerk in the same time both their dicks twitched to come. He knew Niall came with him from the abrupt feeling of a wet heat inside of him the same time he came all over himself that made his bones melt altogether.

Niall sits up and pulls out of Zayn, only to duck back down over his belly and lick his white, thick fluid. He grips Niall's hair while he catches his breath; he doesn't remember anything from tonight but the two of them fucking. Anything before the bedroom is gone out of his head. 

"Ow." Zayn laughs his pain out. His dick is very sensitive right now and he doesn't need Niall licking that clean either.

"Sorry." Niall slides back up and licks into his mouth. 

"Bathroom then burrito." Zayn mumbles against their tongues meeting.

"Wait." Niall slips his hand around Zayn's waist as he holds his face with his other hand. 

He's not sure how long they kissed but they rolled around the bed a couple of times, felt Niall's thigh slip between his legs. He begged his brain not to make him hard again. Niall must've just been looking for an excuse to kiss him with their body parts wrapped together.

They cleaned up quick to avoid any uneventful conversations with people who won't be afraid to admit that they hate having Niall in their house. The people who seem to not want to side with anybody don't care like the other third of the house which already says everything.

*

"You do know we're on a hike, Zayn?" Niall looks down at Zayn's legs as they're walking through the path. He didn't notice it before, too busy looking at the massive trees that make them look like the size of mice and avoiding puddles.

"Yeah." Zayn grimaces for half a second. It's somewhat eerie for a forest with all this fog up in the sky, dark dirt path. They've passed at least two people and it's been an hour.

"Why are you wearing jeans?" Niall pinches them to make sure the black trousers he's wearing are jeans. Can't even pretend that they're just black pants—they've got rips and holes in them.

"Hey, I don't ask why you're wearing shorts." Zayn knocks his hand against Niall's hip. He starts to walk ahead before he realizes there's a small hill he has to climb—more like a hump on the road that bikers would appreciate.

"Everyone likes shorts." Niall scoffs. "But my legs are getting itchy." He reaches down to his calf, itching the same red splotch over and over again. 

Zayn whips his hand in front of his face when he sees a little insect flying about. "Mosquito bites."

"Oh my god!" Immediately, Niall groans and he starts to sob, rushing past Zayn.

Catching up to Niall, he almost gets a swat on his face as he whips both hands around him. Zayn told him to spray himself with the mosquito repellent, said the smell stinks. Well, Zayn never thought the smell is worse than getting bitten. It is a forest after all, with mud and moisture around. It's fucking Portland.

"I miss your studio." Niall rubs his arms with his hands. "I love doing nothing with you. When we do something, we get bit!"

"I'm actually fine." Zayn pulls the sleeves of his snowy sweater over his fingers. Niall continues to wave his hands everywhere to avoid mosquitos. 

They got home to a lot of mosquito bites on Niall's legs. He says there's one on his ass and it's the one he's most pissed with; he told Zayn as he aggressively itched his right butt cheek. All he needs to do now is put some ointment and listen to Zayn when he says to use the mosquito repellent.

Arriving back to Rho, the house of horrors on a Saturday evening means everyone's out. Pledges tend to come here sometimes and hang out if they have nothing else better to do. Liam's in his alcoholic therapy group which he still can't fathom. It leaves him to hang with the rest of the other members of the house who probably secretly hate him.

"Why are you here?" Ant looks at Zayn with so much horror that he's actually considering putting his boots back on and walking out right now. 

It's surprising at first for Ant to be talking to him after the awful tension around the house. Then he realizes that he should just get over this metaphorical bridge his grudge has built for him, just in case he wants to live where the flowers grow.

"I've been walking through forest park all day, and I want to take a shower?" Zayn queries. "Did you guys just clean the bathrooms or something?"

Ant bites his lips before he sighs. He opens his mouth again just for Harry's voice to fill his ears with a distasteful sound.

"Alex is here for a visit. Wanna say hi or something?" 

*

Zayn takes up a shift at O'Den's on the worst day that bring him barely any tips whatsoever. It's nothing that he minds—he likes it better slow than full of people who always yell at him, always talking about how there are no seats. It's a popular restaurant, what would one expect?

Almost every day after his classes he goes to work. Without work, he can't make up an excuse to avoid Rho or anybody right now. He's out almost every single day until midnight, takes a shower before going to sleep. He doesn't know what to tell Niall, that his ex who ruined his life by thinking it was okay to film him is in town—that's why he's been avoiding everybody, sleeping with the door locked? 

He hasn't come back to Rho since then, so he doesn't know why he's so paranoid all the time. Zayn only got a look at him to know that he's real before he took out his phone right in front him and Harry, called Leigh and walked away to his room. 

Whatever Alex is doing here, he doesn't belong in Rho's house. He can fuck about anywhere in Portland for as long as he wants but the boundary stops where Zayn lives. He can't stick himself in his room and leave whenever the coast is free.

The painful thing is he doesn't hate him. He doesn't have the will to hate Alex no matter how much he forces himself to believe that he does. He hates what he did and whatever his intentions were to do something so disgusting towards him. 

There's the rare sound of the door opening today. Saturday's are usually full during brunch and dinner, seeing as how no one's interested in cooking anything for themselves anymore. Although, today is exceptionally empty because of the spring fair that the Greeks are running; Rho is running some booths, who knows what they really are? Harry seems to avoid mentioning anything to him anymore. Even Niall told him about Kappa's corn dog eating contest which is knowing a lot more of Kappa than Rho.

Niall runs towards him, and holds his shoulders like he's about to say something that depends on his life. "Zayn, I cannot let you work during the fair. I'm going to march up to your boss and—"

"I took the shift." Zayn laughs half-heartily—really, it just sounds so sad, even Niall's staring at him with such intensity.

"You've worked nearly every day this week. And you wanna work today, when we're supposed to be at the fair?"

"I'm not sure if I can go. Besides, it'll take a while for me to get ready and—"

"You could've just told me you didn't want to go." Niall lets his arms drop to his side. 

"That's not going to get Alex home." At least if he avoids him all this time, Alex has nothing to look forward to and nobody has talk to each other.

Niall's face completely twists. "Alex?" Niall clearly remembers who he is.

"I should've told you when he came." Zayn sits down on a stool at the counters. Niall puts his hand over Zayn's palm; he doesn't squeeze his hand, his thumb just presses down over his knuckles.

"When did he come?" Niall asks.

"Last week?" 

Niall doesn't press with anymore questions. He's smart enough to puzzle it all together and realize the answer to Zayn's distance over the last week is in Portland.

Niall huffs and brings his idle hand on Zayn's cheek. "I'm not good at these stupid fair games. Really, I think they just take advantage of our bad hand-eye coordination to get all this money."

"That's exactly what they do." Zayn chuckles. 

"But like, if I do win something, what do you want? You don't look like you'd appreciate a spongebob." 

In Niall's attempt to make Zayn feel better, Zayn's asking himself why he never told him earlier instead of going incognito?

"Um, since your date bailed on you, can I take you to the fair instead?" If his boss allows him. Zayn leans in, pressing his lips gently over Niall's lips. He can feel him gently nodding.

They should leave now if they want to get there early before the whole city starts to pour in. It seems like Niall's not ready to. He finally grips Zayn's hands as tight as he can.

"You know I'm always here, right?" Niall whispers over his lips.

"I didn't know what to tell you." Zayn didn't know what to tell anyone. Alex appeared right inside of Rho and nobody seemed to remember anything from the first year and the next. 

Harry knew everything about Alex. All this time he knew every aspect of the details because he was there. The only person he really had before their whole situation got complicated from the moment Zayn went out of his borders is Harry. Even the person he could've talked to, became the reason he saw Alex at their house.

After convincing his boss to let him go, Zayn tried his best to stall himself from getting ready. It took him nearly half an hour before Niall dragged him to the fair with wet hair. The first smell that hit him was the sweet and salty popcorn, the first sound that hit him was the irritating sound of a child screeching about wanting a toy.

Niall dragged him to the spot with a long table, four chairs stretched out evenly. He already knew where they were before he noticed Lucas or Tyler standing around.

"You actually went through with it." Zayn grimaces at the made up image in his mind of the table being filled up with corndogs.

"I wouldn't lie about something like that."

"How are you going to choose who eats your corndogs?" Zayn tries not to direct the questions he has towards Kappa. Instead, he closes the space between him and Niall, turning to expose his back towards them. "A more important question—do you even have anybody?"

"We have twenty people signed up!" Niall proudly picks up the clipboard lying on the table, showing Zayn the list of people that he has. The eating contest starts in an hour.

"So like, this is the puking station?" 

"You guys aren't doing anything better. What the fuck is a water booth?"

"They give free water?" Zayn shrugs. Whatever booth Rho has, it'll be spectacular enough that they'll somehow make profit out of it.

"No creativity!"

"It won't be that bad. Since you know me, I can get you twice the free water you want."

"Water is already free here."

"I'm not even sure what we're doing, man." Zayn wants to go find out.

Niall comes along, maybe to laugh or to torment Rho for all the stupid things they had come up with for today's fundraiser. Even Theta and Nu were doing a lot better with their face paintings. 

"W-wait." Niall halts him in front of a photobooth. He has that look in his eye of conspiracy and mischief.

It's just one little pause on their way to Rho's fair booth of mediocre ideas. He does what anyone would do in photobooth—smile like there's actually some joke happening between him and Niall, stick their tongues out like mad men, look terribly horrendous as possible, and close it with their mouths together like they don't kiss all the time.

After getting the first print, they go for a second time for another photo strip that Niall claims for himself. This time Niall pretends to force Zayn to smile by stretching his the corners of his mouth with his fingers, do sickeningly cute stuff Zayn groans at before eventually doing them. But he doesn't mind Niall grabbing his face and nipping at his lips.

"Where are you going to put these?" Zayn might lose it if it falls out of his pocket. He doesn't want to—not when he needs something to put in his room when he goes home for the summer. It nearly flew out of his hand when someone walked into him.

"I'll show them to my mom." Niall shrugs. He has no clue what to do with them either.

"Rip out that last one. She's gonna kill me." Zayn pulls it out of Niall's hands. They really are touching tongues there. Nobody likes seeing that.

Zayn's face twists as he stares at a line leading to the booth Liam and Harry are standing in. Both their eyes widen to Liam leaning in for a kiss with this girl that Zayn has never seen before.

"A kissing booth, really?" Niall stares directly at Harry.

"Fuck off. You're not allowed here." If Niall knew Harry any better, he'd sound like they're teasing each other and having fun. They hate each other and every one can tell that Harry means what he means.

Harry looks up to his vice president afterwards. "And Zayn, you said you had work? Why are you here now?"

"Niall got me out." Zayn says plain and simple. He wouldn't have come out tonight if it wasn't for him.

"Since you have so much free time, you're taking the next shift of this booth." 

"I'm really not comfortable about that." Zayn looks to the long line of these people who he recognizes around campus but has never had a conversation with them.

"I don't care about your comfort, Zayn. Everyone's doing their part in the booths that we put up. Now stop complaining about this fucking light thing." To be said with so much spite, Zayn couldn't look at Harry. He was never a dick, let alone malicious towards Zayn that it comes all so easy to him. They were friends before—that's clearly all done and forgotten.

"Gee, you're quite brave with that big mouth of yours." Niall could sense the way Zayn's gone silent for the last minute. "Aren't you like, tired of being such an asshole for no reason? Why are you so bitter, huh?"

"Niall, I really don't wanna start anything with you." Harry's quick to retaliate; his eyes sharp like a snake, hissing and talking shit like the real deal. "Unless you do, then you should totally come back to Rho—see if I don't kick your ass. Zayn gave you the inside tour already, since apparently nobody fucking respects the rules anymore."

"Yeah, like you ever did."

"If you're going to cry, cry somewhere away—"

"I'll work the fucking booth!" Zayn huffs, shaking his head. "In the hour that I'm here, don't speak to me. Unless I ask you a question, that's the only time I wanna hear you." 

Zayn shoves Harry in the shoulder trying to get past him. Luckily, he doesn't say a word at all. He sits on the stool beside Liam who gives him that look of apology that he shouldn't have to get from his own little brother. He's already getting stares from people in Liam's line, and he cuts off looking at Niall who walks up to him.

"I've got the eating contest to host." Niall smiles at him. "I'll video tape the whole thing for you."

"I'm sorry." Zayn rubs his face with both his hands. "Both your dates bailed on you—which is me. I'm both."

Niall shakes his head with a smirk. Opening his wallet leads to Niall picking something out of his wallet. "Here." It's $2.

"Eh? Food's like five bucks here." Zayn snorts playfully. It's actually quite cheap for fair food. That's considering the fact that they're only offering hot dogs, hamburgers, obviously corn dogs, cotton candy, and snow cones here. 

It's obvious Zayn isn't paying attention to Niall for him to roll his eyes. It's the last second that Niall leans right in for a kiss. The $2 gets him a simple peck on the lips but Zayn really needs to tick Harry off in some way so he lets his mouth open against Niall, pulling him in from the back of his neck.

It escalates really high with how deep Zayn pushes, has his shut through the whole thing, the works. His plan was supposed to bother Harry, but he felt Liam hitting him on the shoulder to stop instead.

Zayn can hear the complaints from the line getting louder. With everyone watching, at least he can finally establish that it won't be anything more than just a kiss with Niall around. Half the campus finally thinks their dating. And the only reason they're thinking and not knowing is because they'd never believe Kappa and Rho would ever be something more than friends—let alone be friends.

If they weren't more than friends, Zayn wouldn't hold Niall's face against his, with his other hand on his neck, and kiss him like Zayn just chased after him through the airport. He hasn't actually delved deep into this kind of affection in public, and he pulls back when the chilling feeling of being hawked down shot up his back catches up with him.

"Contain yourself." Liam laughs nervously.

"I'll see you later." Zayn tries not to smile, or else his cheeks get fuller and Niall would be able to tell he's blushing.

Immediately, Zayn starts to smack Liam back. His little brother starts to giggle; the two of them start to forget about their long line of people wanting a kiss. This is just a really desperate attempt for a kiss.

The one thing that's bigger than the stupid water booth is the kissing booth. Sadly. With Liam up first, it means that Zayn will be tapping in as of right now. He’s kissed about twenty different people. His charm is very captivating that it's hard to let go of that kiss after two seconds. It's just a short peck, but from what Zayn sees while he's sitting beside Liam is the twinkle in their eyes and their soul leaving after the kiss. He can hear them giggling after the kiss, some people making plans to come back just to get a second kiss from Liam. Then there are people who wait until someone else clocks in.

If Zayn's lips were chapped, that would've cut the sales which would make Harry furious but it makes Zayn quite happy with the possibility that he wouldn't have to kiss more than ten people. It's been only a few minutes now—feels like forever, and he's kissed about twenty different people and many repeats who are just coming around the last quarter. His mistake for putting chapstick on.

To his surprise, he didn't really expect anyone he knew to participate in this booth. Even Liam is staring at him awkwardly as he spits out his water. Everyone he knows is doing something for today, and he’s just here—2 one dollar bills in his hand as if Alex hasn’t done anything to fuck up his life. It would be for him to show up out of nowhere like this. He'd turn him down if he could. With Harry supervising this fundraiser, he just doesn't need any more calamities between them two.

It’s already a disaster that Zayn can’t fix. His heart is practically twisting with his face. This is Alex after all these years—his hair pushed to some messy faux hawk, no more buzz cuts, the same amiable look in his eyes. He can still see the timid image in his head if he smiles, even the dimple on his left cheek. Stupid fucking Hermosa.

“Hey Zayn.” His voice silky and mellow, laced with this disgusting beguiling tone.

“What are you doing?” 

“It’s a fair? Talk of the town? I’m in town?” His face wrinkles more and more after each query.

“I know that.” Zayn snaps derisively. “Like why?”

“I’m playing this gig for my friend’s wedding. Uh, remember Joseph?”

“Alex, it’s not like I don’t want to catch up with you. I’m busy right now as you can tell. I’m sorry.” He doesn’t really want to catch up anyway. It’s just supposed to make him sound polite? Of course he knows Joseph—they were both best friends here in PCU, Alex introduced Joseph to him, they all hung out together.

“What time are you done?” Alex asks eagerly, showing a grin.

“I’m on probation under Harry. I don’t think I’ll be finished here tonight.”

“What happened? I thought you guys would be dating by now.”

“No.” Zayn exhales shortly. He's dating someone better than the both of them combined. “We’re not in the best of terms right now.”

“Wow, things change when you’re gone for so long.” Don't say that.

“Alex…” Zayn pinches his bottom lip. “You’re holding up the line.”

"I change my mind." He shakes his head. "Keep the $2."

"You're paying for the kiss." Zayn is only annoyed because this is really just wasting his time. "Take your $2 back if you're leaving."

"Why are you being so stubborn?" Alex chortles. "This is for your fundraiser. I'm donating my $2."

"I'm not being stubborn. This is just how this stupid booth works." Zayn argues. "If you wanna actually donate to us, Rho has something up—I don't know. Talk to Harry about it."

"Alright! I'll—kiss you." Alex's eyebrows push together sheepishly.

Zayn closes in for a peck with Alex. It's eating him alive how hard it is not get through something so simple as a kiss at a kissing booth where people pay for a kiss. None of it should mean anything if they have to pay for it. The funny thing is, none of the last twenty kisses was with his ex.

It's just a light touch with their lips, barely anything. He's kissed people a lot longer and harder in this line and none of them were good at all.

"I missed you." He whispers just before he pulls back. Zayn takes a step back, clearing the surface of the booth.

"Goodbye Alex." Zayn exhales a breath, waiting for him to move on to the next attraction that couldn't possibly be worse than this.

The kisses only continue for a couple minutes left. There's only so much kissing he can take. He's kissed so many chapped lips, bad breath, terrible kissers, disgusting people who need to kiss people closer to their age. Why are thirty year old parents there in queue?

Zayn shut the booth down. Harry came back from hell and luckily let the peace live between them without yelling at Zayn for making such a call. There's only so much kissing a person can do and it all depends on who.

Liam passes him a water bottle and he lets the water in his mouth swish around before he spits it out. He drinks it down to the halfway mark, hoping that the dehydration of today effected his mind with the hallucinations that he and Alex had a conversation wasn't true at all.

Somehow Liam ruins the mirage and asks who Alex was, who he was talking to for a while—someone Zayn seems to know so well and has never mentioned to Liam before. His ex boyfriend. 

It's a relief that he's gone. For all he cares, he could be hanging out with Harry which would give him a whole lots of reasons not to cross paths. 

He and Liam hit up the different games. They all involve lots of skills and patience which Zayn has none of. He misses many shots, and sometimes a ball would fly out and it would all be his fault. With most of the games that they've passed by, Liam has won two kinds of toys that he refuses to share with Zayn even though he was his cheerleader.

There's just too many people at the fair. It's a good thing but Zayn can barely walk around without bumping into people. He has to move his cotton candy out of the way so nobody smashes into it. The fair is a big place with its many games and rides. They walk by the corndog eating contest which happens to be over already. They're somehow lucky to be able to find Niall and Louis lined up for the bouncy house obstacle.

"You should definitely try this." Louis nods at Zayn.

"I suck at everything." Zayn looks at the slit opening people have to jump through at the beginning. He probably can't even get in without smashing his face on the bars.

"I sent you the video of the contest." Niall laughs quietly. "There was definitely some puking."

"I hope the prize was worth it." Liam's face twists.

"A $100 gift card to Starbucks." Louis tells them as the queue moves up.

That's not a terrible prize at all. Zayn should've signed up for that. Then again, he has to win the eating contest to get that gift card.

It's Louis' and Niall's turn to race each other; all Zayn can think about if he's told him and Kappa that he's leaving. Or is he going to let them think that he's graduating before disappearing forever, not mentioning a word about his plan to stay for a fifth year? He seems happy now and Zayn doesn't want to take any of that away from anyone at a time like this.

They meet Niall and Louis at the end where they're sliding down this massive slide. Instead of keeping his bum planted, Niall thought he'd win so easily by running down. Instead, he just smashes right into Zayn—pushing him down on the ground. There's a sudden pang in his head.

"Oh damn!" Liam laughs quietly with Louis.

"I'm so sorry!" Niall pushes Zayn's bangs off his forehead, holding his face with both hands.

"You hate me or something?" Zayn grumbles. He opens his eyes, immediately grinning at Niall.

"Not my fault. It's like, it's my destiny in this world to always be knocking you down." Niall chuckles just before he presses their lips together.

"Come on, Romeo and Mercutio. You're in public." Louis and Liam start to help the two of them up. Zayn brushes off the grass on his thin, black windbreaker. That's absolutely Louis' favourite reference—Romeo.

"Zayn! Are you okay?" Alex asks like he's out of breath. Where did he come from? He's come so close that he's pushed Niall and Louis away, with Alex's back turned towards them. Niall grimaces behind him, his face awry.

"Seriously, Zayn." He hasn't heard Niall talk so firm and low before. "Are you okay? If it's a concussion, I'm taking you home."

"I'm fine." Zayn shrugs.

"Um." Louis blurts out quietly. Zayn's the only one to hear and notice, and know what it all means. "Alex... You're here in Portland."

Once Niall looked at Zayn, he knew it was all over. His face fell as he took a step back and found the game nearby to turn his attention to. He easily walked off, he could feel Louis' painful blink trying to ignore Niall walking away.

"Is that you Louis? I didn't recognize you at all." Alex laughs. He's just inches taller than everyone else, nearly Harry's height.

"Mhm." Louis nods. "And uh, my vice president and Zayn's boyfriend over there is Niall. That’s Liam right there."

Thank god, he finally got it out. Zayn didn't know where to fit the introduction in. He didn't want to look like the idiot who tells their ex that they've got a boyfriend just to hear 'that's great' or 'what does that have to do with anything?' Because then, it just means it has everything to with him and Zayn when whatever they're doing doesn't mean anything at all.

Alex starts to laugh. "Harry really didn't have a chance with you at all."

"Stop talking like there was something going on between us." Zayn huffs exasperatedly.

"Anyway, Alex.” Louis gives the quickest gaze at Zayn before he looks at Alex. “What are you up to these days? Are you on the road?”

Thanks to Louis' social skills to act like he actually cares about Alex's life, Alex shares about finishing his masters in music. He was happily getting paid to teach in Miami and he's offered to teach at this art school. Zayn lost the details somewhere between the moment he was watching Niall tossing rings around the neck of glass bottles.

Niall can easily be read with his expressive face. There's nothing more Zayn hates than being Niall's reason to walk away. 

"Hey." Zayn stands beside Niall. He's tossing a ring over the bottles without hesitating.

"Hi." Niall doesn't react to Zayn's sudden presence beside him. The silence is eating him.

"I should've said something." He blurts out. 

"You should have." Niall shakes his head. He scoffs sharply before he looks at Zayn. This is going to hurt. They haven't actually spoken to each other like this since they were figuring out who each are without the lying nonsense.

"Zayn, I looked like a fucking idiot standing there like that." He hisses under his cold breath. "All in a matter of a few minutes, I'm pushed behind your ex, while you guys talk about Harry. And I know so well that you and Harry could've happened if—"

"If what?" Zayn retorts. It's not fair Niall's pinning everything on him. He didn't choose for these people to like him; if he knew any better, he could've picked Niall.

"If I didn't come in." Niall rolls his eyes, flicking his wrist to let his last ring fly out. It ricochets off the bottle, giving Niall a lot more things to be annoyed about. He marches away from everyone, passing through the crowd while Zayn's following him from behind, getting shoulders against his chest.

He nearly loses Niall through the fair until he catches up to him around the lake where the swan boats are. He's sitting on the boardwalk with his feet in the water, his shoes put beside him.

The short walk to Niall, Zayn finally calms down. He's getting in over his head for starting an argument like that when none of this is entirely any of their fault. No one can help what they feel and what comes next.

He hasn't seen Niall like this, quiet like the eye of the storm while thunder and wind causes chaos everywhere else. He sits down beside him, waiting for the tension to ease between them. 

Once it did, he made sure his voice was as calm. "Why do you act like you're the worst thing to happen to me?" 

"I'm not acting." Niall can hear the truth in his voice and it hurts a lot. "I may not be the worst thing to happen to you but I'm entirely not the best. Your eyes practically twinkle at him. How does someone like Alex still have that affect on you?"

Zayn exhales. "Alex isn't the worst thing to happen to me. Niall, it's hard to hate someone you used to love."

"I figured."

"But he fucked me over. It doesn't make him the best either just 'cause my mind goes back to the good times we had." 

"That still sounds like he's got you wrapped around his finger."

"No he doesn't." Zayn grimaces at Niall.

"You don't have to say things like that." Niall scoffs, turning his head away.

"Niall, I'm not." He was telling the truth.

"No, I know you're not. Just—" Niall raises his voice, catching himself at the end. He exhales before he stands up. "I need to be alone for a while."

"Why are you getting jealous over nothing?" Zayn follows Niall from behind.

"That's not fair." Niall doesn't hold back raising his voice this time. "You don't get to ask me anything about how I feel with this situation."

"I don't get why you're trying to fight me when I'm asking a simple question." Zayn sneers at Niall.

"I said I wanna be alone. Please stop talking about this." Niall suddenly turns to Zayn. "I'll be fine."

He wants to believe that, he really does. Nobody wants to be alone but it sounds like it's what he wants right now. "You have something on your face." Zayn mutters.

"What?" 

Zayn feels stupid for a lot of things, even leaning in to kiss Niall on his cheek to think that it would make everything better between them. He knows it won't, at least seeing Niall's smile and feel his arms wrap around him is worth it. 

"I love you." Niall whispers quietly.

"I love you too." Zayn means it so much more than anything he's done in his life.

His friends were still at the same spot by the time he came back while Niall's on his way home. If there was any way to change that, he'd do it without a heartbeat.


	12. attention

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "you just want attention, you don't want my heart. maybe you just hate the thought of me with someone new. you just want attention, i knew from the start; you're just making sure I'm never getting over you"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey! thanks for reading :D
> 
> sad news (if u care lol)! i'll be ending this fic in the next chapter instead of 15 as i initially planned but i figured i'm not going to drag it any longer and have everything fall into place next chapter. but don't worry, i'm writing a second part and it'll probably be a long fic (hopefully. i think i have 15k but i want more). it'll pick up a few months after the last chapter. stick around for it :)
> 
> title and summary come from charlie puth's song, "attention". but worry not everyone, the summary is the actually meaning of the title in this case and not the other part of the lyrics (if u listen to them lol i promise no cheating)

When it rains in Portland, it really rains. There's been reports of basements flooding in the city. Zayn is grateful that no one on Greek Row has flooding basements. As far as he knows, no houses on campus are flooding; Rho would somehow take advantage of the opportunity to help people out at a time like this.  
  
It's been an awful week; Zayn won't pretend that he's fine with Alex hanging around the campus. Zayn noticed him with Harry from afar after finishing his class. He managed to slip away, just not at home where Harry's invited him over at least twice now. There's a greater motive behind Harry's intentions and he doesn't want to find out at all.  
  
He's busy focusing on getting equipment and sponsors for the Olympics. The other universities have been told to figure their sponsors out for themselves and provide some equipment for their event. PCU can't provide all these different universities' needs and wants. Since these Greek Olympics are massive sport and entertaining event in the states, Zayn's got Nike providing them with uniforms as long as their logo is printed everywhere, from the soccer field to commercials. This one-week event just so happens to also be a one-week admission promo for the universities.  
  
He couldn't do much without Eggsy or Liam talking to him about it; they were the motivation to actually get work done after wanting to do nothing with Rho. It's been a terrible time with them and Zayn's not sure how he can change how he feels about it. He barely leaves his room, doesn't involve any weekend affairs anymore, and barely talks to Harry anymore without Eggsy being their messenger.  
  
Zayn's trying not to let it all get to him. The one thing that's got him down is Niall. He's seen him during the week, but it feels like each time that they've met, the more Zayn feels distant from him. Conversations are empty, they barely look at each other—Niall tries to look at him which just hurts Zayn more that he has to try, like he has some sort of quota in the hour that he has to look at him at least a dozen times before he doesn't need to anymore.  
  
Alex has ruined him endlessly since he left. Till this day, it's like he's still has this affect on him and everybody who knows him. They all end up getting fucked up and Zayn's the one to blame nevertheless.  
  
It's late at night and Zayn can't sleep. He hasn't been sleeping since Alex came. It doesn't seem like Zayn will ever cross this bridge. There's no such thing as forgive and forget with Alex—no matter how much he wants to do all of that. He could've just told Zayn like it is—that he was just good for the fun and never anything else. Zayn doesn't have to ask himself after all this time if Alex really loved him or not, if everything was as real as Alex made it feel.  
  
*  
  
There's no rain in L.A. It's all sunshine here with beaches he can visit without having to worry about the frigid cold water. He never goes home unless it's a holiday but it was hard to stay around Portland and pretend things with everyone were alright. He got the first flight in the morning, left before anyone could ask where he's going with a suitcase.  
  
"Zayn?" His mom narrows his eyes at his son coming through the front door.  
  
"I-I didn't think you'd be home." Zayn starts to take a step back with his luggage. "I was just—"  
  
"You don't have to apologize for coming home." His mother smiles warmly at him. He hasn't got any of those since Christmas. "I just made some soup."  
  
"Don't you think soup is too hot for today's weather?" Zayn goes in for a hug that nearly swallows his mom whole; she's quite tiny. But then again, so is he.  
  
"You can eat soup anytime you want. Like ice cream in winter." She laughs at him. "I missed you. I can't believe you're here. Are you staying for the weekend?"  
  
"Yeah. I just needed to get away from everything."  
  
"I'm here for you." Those are the words he truly needs to hear.  
  
*  
  
With his sister and mother home, he spends his whole entire weekend visiting places such as Malibu Beach. They brought Daft along for the Beach but not the malls or restaurants. It's risky to bring a large dog out in public. Their fear makes Daft nervous himself.  
  
To his surprise in the evening since he hasn't opened his phone all day, he's got at least a dozen texts asking where he is. There's two missed calls from Niall about three hours ago and everything else just stops after that.  
  
He's pacing in the pool house as he calls Niall back. Two rings is all it takes for Niall to answer.  
  
"You know people are wondering where you went. Why didn't you tell anybody?" No more hello's.  
  
"It's not anyone's business that I'm wherever I am." Nobody needs to know where he's going if it doesn't affect them.  
  
"You're not going to tell me either?" Niall's tone deflates into pure annoyance.  
  
"No big deal, I just went back home." Zayn snarks back.  
  
"You couldn't just tell anybody? I've got Rho asking me about where you are as if I know." Niall huffs. Zayn crawls over to the couch bed where he falls back in the middle, on the verge of falling asleep.  
  
He shuts his eyes, grumbling back at Niall. "Good for you. I'm sorry that this is some inconvenience for you. I'm hanging up."  
  
"No, wait." Niall sighs. "I just really wanted to hang out before I found out that you're all the way there."  
  
"It's just this weekend. I'll be back Monday." Zayn's tone is calm again. They haven't seen each other a lot. Niall hasn't made much of an effort to want to lately.  
  
"Alright. I guess I'm gonna hang up now." Niall's voice nearly disappears in the soft tone of his voice. Zayn just can't talk to him when they're both avoiding the elephant in the room. They can't absolutely think this is all fine to them.  
  
Zayn's silent for a moment on what he's supposed to say back. He can hear Niall's breathing, and his own breathing and the way it gets heavy as silence grows.  
  
"Goodnight, Niall." Zayn finally replies before he can hang up and put his phone down beside him. Whatever this is now, it's not the same as it was before.  
  
*  
  
It doesn't make a difference whether Zayn comes back Monday or Tuesday. No one really asked about why or where he went, they just don't care about what he did compared to what they're supposed to do for the Olympics.  
  
For one thing, he's not the only one on this event. It's not his responsibility alone. Seems like it is—it always is. This is everyone's duty to fulfill.  
  
The moment Zayn found the free time to go into Heis, he's with Jesy. And the first thing he notices is Alex amidst a double-take aimed his way that distracted him away from his writing session. After ordering their drinks, he could see the invitation Alex has on his face that he's giving Zayn to talk. It feels like an invitation to get his finger cut off. Thank God Jesy's here.

He rarely ever hangs out with Jesy but she had just dropped off Jake to his class so they were going to use this time to talk. Even a simple plan like that, Alex is able to ruin it.  
  
"Hi." Alex grins at the two of them. Although, Alex is really looking at Zayn. "How was your week?"  
  
"Good. You remember Jesy?" He points to her with his hand.

"Yeah. Hi." Alex offers his hand. "Majoring music, right? It's wicked cool."

"Oh, I heard a _lot_ about you." Jesy's grin is taut and very fake, causing Alex to laugh nervously. They shake each other's hand like any other regular person.

 _Why are you still here_ , Zayn wants to ask really bad. "What are you up to?" He asks instead.  
  
"I'm writing a song." Alex shows his papers full of scratches and scribbles.  
  
"That's fun." No it isn't.  
  
"It's creative, I guess." He shrugs. Quietly, Jesy excuses herself to the washroom, leaving Zayn to actually sit down with Alex. There goes his fingers. "I've somewhat written a lot before but I've just been drawing blanks." He looks at Zayn afterwards. "Are you still painting?"  
  
"No." Zayn quit that job, seeing how much time it consumes him. Only for his elective art class does he really paint. "I don't have any time."  
  
"It's rough." Alex nods. "But you're really talented. Don't stop, alright?"  
  
"Okay." Zayn mutters. "Thanks."  
  
"You don't need me to tell you that. I think you know you already are." Alex laughs quietly, smiling down at his notebook.  
  
"What are we doing?" Zayn asks quietly.  
  
"We're catching up, aren't we?" Alex lifts a brow.  
  
"I didn't think there was anything to catch up to." Zayn grips his phone really tight. "You know that whole thing ended when we broke up."  
  
"I do. It doesn't mean I don't care about what happened while I was gone."  
  
"While you were gone? This isn't you coming back." Nobody asked him to come back, nobody wants him to come back. His name is tainted by the fact that he took advantage of Zayn who was in his first year.  
  
"Why are we arguing?" Alex grimaces. "I just want to know how you are after all this time."  
  
"It's really only been a year and a half. I haven't been given much time to accept that I got fucked over by my ex." It's a fresh deep wound.  
  
"Fucked you over?" Is Alex really pretending that he didn't? He winces an eye at Zayn from across the table. "How many times do I have to apologize to you for making the mistake of video taping that first time before you eventually understand I never meant to do it with those intentions?"  
  
"I still get shit for it. 'Til this day."  
  
"That's why we broke up!" Alex scoffs. "I was tired of putting all of that shit on you when you never deserved it."  
  
"Then why did you do it in the first place?"  
  
"I-I can't tell you."  
  
"You did before. You just can't think of a story to share with me at this moment because you forgot the real story you told me since it was all fake." Zayn laughs drily. "Is this how catching up feels like? It feels great." As cold as they're both being towards each other, Zayn can't find a reason to really hold Alex against all of this. There's too many good memories to replace with unwanted anger. Even if they were lies.  
  
"You always do know how to make me feel weak."  
  
"Incompetently." Zayn grumbles.  
  
"Every way." Alex assures him, Zayn just laughs through his nose.  
  
"Why do you always do that?" Zayn asks quietly.  
  
"Do what?" Alex leans closer over the table.  
  
"The way you talk, it's like—you always want everybody to doubt or second guess you." Zayn fidgets with his phone, pulling the case off and fitting it back on.  
  
"You mean I talk like I'm seducing you?" Alex laughs, letting his eyelids hood over his eyes. That doesn't help him at all. "You can just say it."  
  
"I'd rather not." Zayn bites his teeth down on his lips. It's because he knows that Alex knows, and he doesn't want to jump into this.  
  
"Still carry that habit of yours."  
  
"You're still an ass."  
  
"Look, I know things between us were... A bit complicated. But I was wondering if you would help me out writing this song."  
  
"I'm not a writer." It's also really out of nowhere for Alex to ask him this favour.  
  
"Aren't you majoring in English or whatever—humanities—if you can major that shit?"  
  
"Yeah, but I'm not doing really well like I should." Zayn sneers to himself.  
  
"I'm not asking you to know every word of the encyclopedia. You're creative in many aspects." He chuckles.  
  
"I'll help you out." Zayn bites his lip again. "Drop by Friday."  
  
"We'll do it on Friday, like a date."  
  
"Alex. I have a boyfriend. You can't say those things." Not to mention it's really inappropriate for Alex to think they'd ever get back together.  
  
"How long have you guys been dating?"  
  
"Six months but we started talking to each other in the beginning of the year." Zayn smiles timidly. "I knew him from first year."  
  
"Is that why you guys are going ever so strong?"  
  
"It's because he loves me. Everyone has been so distant. He's the only one who stuck with me all this time."  
  
"Sounds like a good guy."  
  
"He is." Zayn assures him. Just as Jesy came out of the washroom, the barista suddenly calls his order out, and he looks up at Alex afterwards. "It was nice catching up with you." He doesn't hesitate to leave his seat.  
  
"It is." Alex smiles warmly, without all of the bullshit he always likes to throw in.  
  
Zayn left as soon as he can, wanting nothing more than to go home. Sitting down with Alex wasn't a horrible time—it was tolerable to accept that they're never going to be the exes that despise and hate each other to the bone, even when Zayn really wants to. All they need to do is just keep it that way.

"Still an ass?" She asks, sipping her latte.

"You know it." Zayn scoffs.  
  
Since Jesy wanted to go home to finish her assignments, they parted ways and Zayn found himself at the library instead after receiving a text that Niall's gone out this evening from Louis. It doesn't seem like an invitation the way he tried to text Niall just to get nothing back. The reaction when he came was no better.  
  
Niall looks at him so surprised. He takes his bag off the chair beside him and set it on the table instead. "How'd you know I was here?"  
  
"You never tell Kappa where you really are when you're studying." He sits down beside him, hands folded together on the table.  
  
"I can't believe you know me that well." Niall chuckles, bumping their knuckles together. "How was L.A.?"  
  
"Nice as always. Daft misses you." Zayn grins, leaning closer to Niall.  
  
"I missed his owner. He disappeared this weekend." The smile on Niall's face fades and he's looking at him with so much intent. "You're alright though? How was your day?"  
  
"Decent." Zayn says plainly. He's going to take a risk with that. "I had a chat with Alex." He takes the chance to look at Niall. It's something he should know.  
  
Niall let out a long, deep sigh. He's clearly not impressed with him at all. He never will. "Please don't tell me you're best friends now?" Niall tries to grab him by his neck.  
  
"We're fine." Zayn laughs quietly, holds his hand to stop him from getting angrier at him.  
  
"You're not going to introduce us to each other, right?" Niall glares at him.  
  
"Of course not." Zayn snorts. There's one thing that sticks out in his mind. "However, he asked about you."  
  
Niall narrows his eyes suspiciously. "What'd you tell him?"  
  
"Everything I needed to." Enough to let Alex know how much Niall means to him without saying a lot.  
  
"Okay." Niall nods. "I trust you."  
  
Going back to his textbooks and notes, Niall pushes his glasses back. Zayn's attention is cut in half between watching Niall from the corner of his eye to his phone. He's fidgeting in anxiety that he brought upon himself for accepting a plan with Alex.  
  
"He asked me to help him write a song on Friday." Zayn tells him quietly.  
  
"Lucky I didn't ask you on a date." Niall's laugh is so cold, Zayn practically felt his chest twist in pain. "Otherwise, I'd be cutting in between your plans with Alex."  
  
"It's not a date. He just needs help and I said I will." He doesn't know why he does this to himself. Lying is lying—he hates the way he tries to convince himself that he's telling Niall the whole truth.  
  
"He can't ask someone else?" Niall huffs.  
  
"Trust me." Zayn laughs, trying to nudge Niall as if there's an inside joke between them but he pulls back  
  
"He knows Harry and Louis." Niall continues to argue.   
  
"Why don't you help then?"  
  
"Zayn. Honestly, what the fuck?" Niall grips his boyfriend's wrist. "Are you trying to make me hate you?"  
  
"What?" Zayn exclaims. "What do you have against it? Against him?"  
  
"Against him?" Niall repeats. "You want me to somehow sit down with you on this supposed writing session with your ex-boyfriend." Niall shakes his head, shutting his books. "You don't understand this whole thing do you?"  
  
"What am I supposed to understand?" That exes and boyfriends can't be friends? Zayn doesn't want them to be friends—they're certainly less than acquaintances. All he wants is for Niall to get him. He can't explain it well enough. He's not sure what he's doing either. He wants to believe he's somehow doing the right thing by telling Niall everything that's happened with Alex.  
  
"I'm gonna go." Niall shakes his head. "I've been here for hours."  
  
"Niall." Zayn calls out calmly.  
  
"What do you want me to do?" Niall retorts as he puts all his books and notes in his backpack in quick haste.  
  
"Not leave?" Zayn quips back rhetorically.  
  
"You're asking me not to leave or to stay, I can't tell." He shakes his head at Zayn.  
  
"Niall. I haven't seen you for a week." Zayn stares at him in annoyance, unsure if it's all projected to Niall or to himself. "Instead of working out a way to spend time together like we always try to, you're giving me some kind of ultimatum choice? Are you serious?"  
  
"Your priorities are wavering. I can't tell what it is." Niall argues aggressively quiet.  
  
"I'm sorry if I wanna try to fix what's been fucking with my mind for nearly two years now." Zayn swallows. There's a weird feeling going through him as he and Niall argue in the library. They're both standing up, facing each other with space in between them. Probably was the biggest space that they left between them. "I should probably just live with the fact that I'm known as some idiot around here who always feels guilt ridden every time he has sex with his boyfriend?"  
  
"Who's saying that?" Niall grimaces, his voice suddenly lowers down softly.  
  
"Does it matter?" Zayn can't believe Niall has to know who just so it could be valid. There isn't a who or what—the answer is that everyone said it all already. He's setting out on leaving when his body is turning away from Niall with his face frowning at the same time. Zayn couldn't do it—there is something off about them that made him aggravated and sad. "I'll talk to you when I'm ready or whatever."  
  
Zayn figured Niall sat back down once he left. He wasn't tailing behind him nor did he leave the library in the first place. The idea only came out because Niall wanted to leave himself before Zayn made the move; it was just a competition between them, seeing who'd make the first move.  
  
Zayn's not surprised that this is where they're at right now in their relationship. There's no forgetting that they're two entirely different people who started off their years in university hating each other. Niall is someone Zayn would have never dated. He was the kind of guy who liked the attention that he got with everyone, can't keep his mouth shut to save his life, not to mention he does it without a filter. Zayn didn't entirely like it but the thing he liked about Niall the most is how supportive and caring he is. It may sound cheesy but nobody's like that anymore. Except, now it's as if Niall's taking the day off with it just because he's trying to see if being around Alex after all the things that's been said and done would change the way he's been feeling about himself for the last 3 years.  
  
Zayn wasn't ready any time soon to be talking to Niall. He thought he'd give himself a day but once he's opened his phone to their chat, all he ends up feeling is weak and ultimately sad in every way.  
  
It wasn't helping him in anyway back at the house. All those emotions plus the anger seething for Harry was causing him not to think thoroughly about anything at all.  
  
The vote for the Presidential elections were coming up next week. Harry already being one candidate that everyone already knew about, he couldn't help but at least smile to himself when ten people nominated him when they only asked for someone to second the first nomination. Harry wasn't, and that is what they'll deal with for the entire month.  
  
The closer it got to the Olympics the more difficult it was for Zayn to be able to sit down and clear his head, finally tell Niall what he's been thinking about before he can fuck off and let everything run its course. Teams were already pouring in, the pool, the lake, the fields, and the track were already being set up for the events. They all got their uniforms with the sponsors that they've got, equipment that they all managed to buy and pitch in.  
  
Alex has managed to somehow still stay in Portland when the wedding already finished just last week. He mentioned something about the Olympic games but Zayn's been out of his mind that he's stopped reading Alex altogether.

Though he couldn't forget his word to Alex about helping him out with his songwriting. How could he, Niall's anger towards him doesn't make him forget that kind of stuff.

That Friday Alex came by the house like they planned. He wasn't sure if he dressed up intentionally. He had on his jean jacket as if he had plans to go out to a concert. But it wasn't just any other outfit—Alex always liked him in jean jackets. It was a habit Zayn picked up when they dated, and it sort of stuck with him. He barely wore jean jackets ever since they stopped talking. Even if he wore it any other times, he didn't think of Alex until now. 

"Hi, Zayn." Alex smiles at him. "Are you ready?"

"Sure." Zayn opened the door wider for him to come in. "You want beer? Water..." 

"I'll take a beer." Alex pulls his backpack off. It doesn't even look like there's anything in there.

Once Zayn got the beers, they went to the dining room. He didn't want anybody to see him with Alex, yet he couldn't be left alone in his room with him. He'd rather die. But the word will spread around the house before they could even start. Sitting adjacent to him, Zayn pulled out his notebook and pen. He even got a dictionary and thesaurus out for them to use.

"What are you even thinking about writing?" Zayn grimaces.

"Oh, you know." Alex takes a swig of his beer. "First love, sex—the regular shit people sing these days."

"Why, you guys ran out of band material?" Zayn started to scratch a line in his notebook with his pen. He checked the time on his phone. 6:15pm—it made his knees bounce.

"We have tons. I just want more." Alex explains. "And it would be nice to write with you."

"Does it look like I know anything when it comes to music?" Zayn scoffs. "Obviously not."

"Well, remember that one night back in my room, you helped me out with my creative writing assignment?"

"There's a difference. Song-writing is based more on experience."

"One which we both have a lot of." Alex nods at him. "And that was the first time you slept over my place."

"I think I left my keys that night."

"On purpose." Alex remembers Zayn confessing to him weeks later when they got together. "You're tactical." 

"Yeah." Zayn lets out a deep breath. "Hold on, alright. Give me a few minutes before we start."

He walked towards the door, inhaling and exhaling with his hand clutching his phone. He isn't supposed to be here at all—what was he thinking? He should've just said no.

There was a knock on the door that he ran towards. It was about time.

"Jes—Niall?" Zayn grimaces as he pulls the door open. He was expecting the golden-red haired girl, not his boyfriend. At times like this, he'd be fine seeing him. With Alex inside, he didn't really want Niall to see him.

"Look, I blew shit out of proportion—" Niall puffs. His were stared at the ground just before he looked up at Zayn. And then they trailed right behind him.

"Niall." Zayn said calmly. But he already shoved past Zayn, walking right up to Alex.

Zayn's eyes blew wide open at Eggsy who looked back at him with the same shock in his eyes. Everyone else who's downstairs was looking from the living room, up on their feet, peering through the corner of the wall. He knew he was going to be in trouble. Even his brothers knew.

"Hey, boyfriend." Alex smirks at Niall just as Niall approached him at the table, gripping the chair with both his hands.

"You want him that bad?" Niall scoffs. "You're just going to lie to him and tell him you need help with writing? Maybe he's thick about it but I'm not."

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Alex laughs as he stands up from his seat, gesturing at Niall with his beer in his hand. "But maybe you're filling in the blanks for him. He really is helping me."

"Because you know he would. He's a good guy like that. And you take advantage of it." Niall rolls his eyes.

"I've known him longer than you. I know he's a good guy." Alex lifts a brow. "The one thing we got in common, boyfriend, is that we dated Zayn. And I'm sorry if he chose to spend his Friday with me over you. Now, is that my fault or his? You _are_ dating him after all."

God, for someone who Zayn really hates, he'll have to give it up for Alex to be able to manipulate people through his teeth so disgustingly easy. He fell for it, and now, from his spot, he could tell Niall was thinking about what Alex said. He noticed his eyebrows narrow in as he looked off to the side to think.

"Alex, stop." Zayn pulls Niall back behind him, leaving Zayn standing between them, up close and personal against Alex. He smells like cigarettes and beer—an epic combination of a real low-life. "You're pushing it. I did agree to help you out, but it doesn't mean you get to talk about me like you know me. It's nearly been 2 years now. I'm not the same fucking idiot I was to fall for your shit." He turns to Niall, carefully pushing him away from Alex. "Can I talk to you upstairs?"

Before Harry could see him here. But then again, as fast as words spread around this house, he'll figure out a member of Kappa came in their house once again. He'll find out just like Niall who somehow decided to come today to apologize, out of all days and time. Maybe he didn't know, but the fates were surely testing everyone this week.

Zayn shut the door behind him as they entered his room upstairs. Niall, with his hands folded behind his nape, lets out a frustrated sigh while he paces around. 

"I know you're not that dense." Niall gets out the first word. Zayn watched the way his eyebrows narrowed in, staring at him like he's the most annoying person he's ever had to deal with.

"I agreed to help. That's all. You trust me, yeah?" Zayn raises a brow at him.

"I know you did. And I do. I just hate him!" Niall groans with his eyes shut.

"Let me explain." Zayn checks his phone, seeing Jesy's name on it telling him she's downstairs with Alex. God, she couldn't have come any earlier? Alex is probably confused but it doesn't matter to him. "You wanna know how I'm helping him out?"

"Sure, Zayn." Niall sighs. His eyes roll and it should've hurt Zayn. But he had his reasons not to react indifferently. 

"I invited Jesy over for _him_. She's majoring music, right?" Zayn passes his phone to Niall with his conversation with Jesy open. Niall hesitantly takes it from his hands, reading their conversation.

On the same day he and Jesy got coffee, he texted Jesy for this favour. He knew she didn't like him, but she knew she was in a way better position to help Alex than Zayn. She attacked Zayn as to why he agreed and slowly came to an understanding. Jesy agreeing to help meant that Zayn was giving up his Saturday to clean Nu's house.

"My stupid English majoring ass can't write at _all_ , but I knew she'd be able to help him better than I could. That's what I meant, when I said I'd help him out."

Niall didn't respond while he read the texts. Zayn could tell from his face he's relieved that he never had intentions to personally help Alex at all. Though he could never be too sure about his expression. Despite looking relieved, Niall frowned as he tossed Zayn's phone over his bed.

Zayn started only a breath into his first word before Niall shoved their mouths together, hands holding Zayn's neck. His thumb presses right at the bottom corner of Zayn's lips where he parted them more and pushed a little harder than before, forcing Zayn to suck a deep breath.

The kisses pressed on harder; it became messy and full of biting and pulling until lips became red and wet, tongues sliding and licking Zayn's mouth. That's when he figured out the demonstration was over, and Niall's really going to keep going. Not that Zayn told him to stop; he kept going with the deep open mouth kisses, moved his head and did it again, tilted his head straight and gave him a real hard kiss over his upper lip, repeat cycle.

"Then you're going to help me out." The words rushed out of Niall's lips like the wind, Zayn almost couldn't understand that he almost actually stopped nipping at his bottom lip. Niall's hands were already all over his back, arms coiled around him.

Zayn did stop amidst tilting his head. "Are you asking or are you telling?" He whispered back against his lips. 

"Only if you're willing. Are you?" Niall sounded like he laughed. Meanwhile Zayn's really on the edge; he can already feel his dick thickening in his trousers and he really needs to unzip it or just take it off.

"I'll do anything." Zayn pressed the most aggressive kiss on Niall, enough to make him moan and dig his nails on his back and drag it in his hair so he can push him for impossibly more.

The steps to the bed were difficult; they went together—Niall pressed right against Zayn's back, mouth pressed on his neck and arms around his waist. Zayn encouraged it with the hand in his hair which made the walk, actual baby steps.

With Zayn pinned on the edge of the bed by Niall, his arms slipped down around Zayn's hips.

"Take your clothes off." Niall leaned his body over Zayn's back, biting and kissing his neck.

"Just wait." Zayn laughs deeply; his chest rumbling against his bed.

As awkward and hard as it is, Zayn tried to get his jacket and t-shirt off while Niall started to unbutton Zayn's trousers, only to pull them low enough that Niall slipped his hand in, to rub him through his boxers.

"Hurry up." Niall groaned. With his head on Zayn's back, his thumb pressed back and forth his thickening dick; he wanted to feel him twitch but he also wanted him to hurry up so he started pulling his boxers down too.

Zayn decided to focus on the zipper of his jeans instead, standing up away from the bed and take his trousers off with Niall pulling both the jacket off and his t-shirt over his head. Shaking his socks off his feet, he kicks them away as Zayn got his clothes all off and it was good. From the corner of his eyes, he immediately turned to Niall to undress him, and in less than a minute, they were both undressed under Zayn's duvet—it'll probably fall off.

The kissing was slower this time, more thoughtful and sensual than the way it was coming here. Niall had half his body on Zayn—he certainly had his thigh pressing on Zayn's dick while Niall held his face.

Niall fixed himself so he could sit between Zayn's legs, holding them up from the back of his knees as if Niall was already about to fuck him with the two of them sitting up, Zayn's legs straddled around him. But it was early, and sure Niall's eager but he wanted to sweat the feeling out ever more. His hands wanted to push Zayn down until he was sitting right down on him but mouthing over his neck and chest is good too. Zayn can't push Niall off with his mouth sucking on his neck, tongue licking and teeth grabbing at his nipples.

He went back to Zayn's jaw, closing his lips in between until he was close to whisper over his lips. "I really fucking want you."

"You sure do." Zayn smiles up at him.

"You can get rough with me." Niall droned suggestively, his fingers were skimming down his ribs like feathers. "I know there's something you want to do to me too."

"More like, you want something from me." Zayn held Niall's neck. Just to be safe. "You can say it."

Niall groans his name out quietly. Either he's embarrassed or the sound of his voice is getting to his ears. He inhales loudly, closing the space between their body. He pushed his face into Zayn's neck, groaning for something Zayn's supposed to understand. He liked it—Niall mouthing at his skin again, how couldn't he?

"Come on." Niall continued to groan. 

Zayn turned his head to meet Niall's mouth for the sloppiest kiss that screams desperation. Something else he likes. From what he can tell, the thing Niall wants involves his mouth and his dick that's been untouched. Although, Niall hasn't touched him either.

Zayn stopped kissing but Niall kept going and nipping his lips. "We're doing this one way."

"What?" Niall was breathing so heavy.

"FaceTime." Zayn said it so hungry, he bit Niall's bottom lip just after.

"Sounds good." Niall laughs quietly.

As Niall started settling towards Zayn's face using his knees, the idea to confess that he hates having his face between someone's thighs was in the back of his mind and he doesn't know what he suggested such a thing. Was he excited though? Definitely; he looked like he was a puppy in training getting rewarded with a snack. Not exactly, but his tongue licked his lips—that was enough.

Knees between either side Zayn's head, Niall was that close to him—that's when he began to lick his balls, push the skin to move with the pressure of his skin. It already had Niall groaning, only because he was also rubbing his dick wet with spit. 

Eventually, Niall felt it was good to hold his head and watch Zayn lick his dick up. He went back down, flicking at the base, and felt a heavy breath escape his lungs.

Niall took mouth-fucking to its exact meaning and beyond; Zayn was moaning in his own mouth just watching Niall bucking and grinding his hips for his dick to push through his mouth. Niall gripped Zayn by his hair, and somehow, at the same time, he was rubbing Zayn's dick. 

The heavy breathing made him tired, but Zayn knew Niall wasn't tired from his surprise multitasking skill that lasted fairly quick. He looked like the kind of guy who wants to reach the last heart beat before it skips—the one that makes him stammer and moan out in pain. 

"Mmmm, that's good." Niall gasped quietly and bit his lips. In agreement, Zayn moaned and tried to nod his head.

Zayn grown to like watching it happen right above him, and he really liked when it seemed like it was all over for Niall but Zayn was just swallowing and sucking him from his throat. Even teasing him, Zayn moved slowly just so Niall could see his glistening and hard dick being treated well. The funny thing is, Zayn has no real way to even move his head—Niall was following a pace he made.

Finishing up, Niall slowly slid his dick out of Zayn's mouth and watched his head be licked in Zayn's open mouth.

"If we kept going, I might have come all over your mouth." Niall sounds like he still wants to. He can play as if he's relieved from  being sucked off—he's just not playing very well. 

Zayn sucks his bottom lip until he was able to swallow the flavours from Niall's dick. "Hm, what's my prize for getting you that close?" His hands held Niall by his hips as he straddled down on Zayn's chest. It's as if he's weightless.

"Something really nice." Niall put his hands behind his back so he can lead Zayn's hands down to his bum. "Trust me enough to take my word?"

"Trust you with my life."

As sweet as the conversation went, the evening wasn't. In less than two minutes, Niall had him on his front, legs bent back. Thank god Zayn took that shower before 6; he wouldn't have felt Niall licking him open and kissing him around the rim. Zayn really had it bad as Niall kissed right over his hole and slid his tongue. It made him throb hard against Niall's relentless mouth and he had no idea why he was licking him so throughly, widening him until he can poke in and flick the tip of his tongue. 

His body stuttered, his legs were opening by itself so Niall could just mouth every part. He was trying—maybe for Zayn but it looked so selfish the way he had his thumbs stretching his hole so he can eat him to tears. 

"Open for me, Zayn?" Niall whispered a pitch high. His dick twitched at the request. How could he not be open right now—he's nearly pushing his ass back on Niall's mouth.

"Niall, can you just fuck me?" Zayn huffs. He isn't aggravated as he sounded. Niall wasn't nice as Zayn to stop at a certain time. The feeling of a warm, wet tongue kept persisting. The second Niall stopped was actually the first time Zayn was able to breathe. 

"I told you it was going to be nice." Niall sing-songs his words that Zayn almost rolled his eyes. "Always keep my promises."

Before Zayn can argue back in a really nice way that he didn't expect this much, Niall slipped his finger through. Zayn almost bent over for it as his forefinger wriggled and twisted inside his muscles.

"This would be really sad if we don't have any lube or condoms." Niall exhales and licks right at his rim, under his finger pressing and rubbing Zayn inside.

"I don't have much lube left." Zayn groans. That's his fault. He and Niall weren't doing much for the last number of weeks—everything was put on pause. The amount left is from the last time Niall came over which was a hundred years ago.

"Oh, I love rough sex." Niall shoves his second finger. They start to thrust inside right away. "You'll love the way it feels so tight inside of you. It'll be difficult to move, but that's the best part." Niall's just listening to his own voice now and digging his fingers in Zayn until his knuckles are pressed against his skin.

"I have been fucked before." Zayn huffs.

"Not like this." Niall chuckles, stretching his rim up until his third finger slips in. In some way, Zayn's going to eventually find out how different this'll be from the other times.

"Saying you didn't put the same energy into the other times that we've fucked." Zayn hums just as Niall twists his fingers until his hand is turned palm up. "Aw."

"Maybe." Niall sounds like he really means it. "Or just knowing I can fuck you better than Alex can gets me going. I'd make him watch but I'd rather not."

"No." Zayn agreed. "I only want you."

He figured out how Niall really liked being rough. In his best efforts, he tried to roll in bed with him until Zayn was on top like he always wanted to be. Niall just wouldn't cooperate with his pulling and pushing, learned he should've done it earlier into the night when he would love rolling all over the bed, being grabbed by big hands.

Under the comforter, Zayn was on top, all of Niall's dick pushed up. Niall moved for him, little tiny hip nudges while their mouths were together firmly. Zayn doesn't usually have sex under the comforter but he liked having his lower back to his feet covered. 

As much as Niall spoke about moving, he was more interested in Zayn's mouth. They were both definitely attached, figuratively and literally. Niall had his arms around Zayn's neck to keep him from pulling away so far. As long as Zayn was moving, even little rotations was enough.

The little moans from Zayn's mouth each time their mouths and tongues met were bringing smiles on Niall's face. He kissed Zayn's top lip and somehow, they had their tongues licking and sliding together. 

"Don't miss me too much," Zayn flicked his tongue off with Niall. He decided to sit up for the first time; Zayn had a feeling Niall won't miss his mouth on his at all.

Zayn started slow rotations with his hips as he bit his lip. He really wasn't doing this for Niall anymore, just mainly for himself now. He held his dick, slowly twisting and squeezing his head to match his pace on Niall. Gradually, he was growing fast, starting off with little bounces. 

"You like me fucking your dick?" Zayn asked. The question was merely for him to find some way to get faster. The things in his mind weren't enough and hearing Niall's voice helps a lot. 

"Yeah." Niall exhales. "Please Zayn. Fuck it harder."

"Yeah?" Zayn started to bounce harder on top, along with his dick. The strokes were longer which made it barely unbearable for Zayn. He lost himself for a moment; he moaned at the tight, slick feeling of Niall's dick ripping through between him, sending a twist up his spine that makes him clench harder around Niall. "What else do you like?"

"I like how red your lips are, how your body stutters when you go too deep." Niall bit his lips, his finger squeezed and tugged at his nipples. Zayn wanted to see it for himself; he slammed his hips down just for his dick to stutter and moan. His body must've shivered for pushing so much into himself.

"I like that your asshole is so tight but you've got me right up in there. Does it feel good, Zayn?" Niall asked and Zayn only went with a nod, held Niall's shoulders. He was going real fast, rocking Niall deep into the bedsheets, messily bouncing on top that it made noises between them when Zayn's ass bounces off of Niall.

"Ugh. Fuck it harder." Niall drones so sweet and quiet that Zayn had to look away and moan out like he wasn't there. But Niall reached for his chin and turned him back to look. "You're about to come aren't you?"

"Yeah." Zayn chokes out.

"Are you gonna come all over me?" Niall swipes his thumb over Zayn's bottom lip.

"I'm gonna fucking jizz all over you." Zayn gasps quietly. Niall had some fucking insane way of making Zayn feel really dirty and bad. He wasn't too thrilled about it—knowing it was one of the first moments he's ever talked back with so much sex in his voice.

"Yeah you are." Niall mutters to himself before he slips his fingers inside Zayn's mouth. 

The same time Zayn fucked himself on Niall, he was doing it in sync with his mouth around Niall's fingers. He sucked them till his cheeks hollowed, let his spit lace around before he licked his fingers up and down and around.

Zayn was really close that he switched the way he sat on top of Niall. He sat back, legs wide open, his knees pulled back towards his face as he let his arm hold him up. Now Niall could definitely see the way his dick disappeared into Zayn's body he watched him eagerly push his hips up and down, slow and long strokes around his dick while he held his own.

"Zayn." Niall moaned just after he watched his dick twitch with his shaft halfway inside Zayn. "Fucking come on me."

"W-wait, Niall." Zayn bit his lip and tried to bounce on him again. His face twisted in lots of pain; it doesn't help that he's pumping and twisting his hand around his dick. Niall just wanted to hold him down and fuck him his way—he actually did miss him on his body. 

Niall sat up on his elbow, tried his best to thrust his hips up while Zayn gave him rapid strokes that made his toes curl and neck veins show. By this time, Zayn's thighs were on fire and shaking.

"Fuck me." Zayn gasped sharply and under his breath, and sank his ass right to the base of Niall dick. Just like that, he came right up to Niall's chest, spilled over his stomach and fist as he squeeze his head. He rubbed his wet tip just because and even slowly began to pull up on Niall's dick before pushing back down on him.

"It's your turn." Zayn takes in a deep breath, nostrils flaring. "And you're gonna come inside of me."

The demand behind his voice somehow made Niall moan. "Is that what you want?" He starts to run his hands up Zayn's ankles.

"Yeah." Zayn nodded and bit his lip. Fucking tease. "Are you gonna do it?"

"Only if you bend over on the edge of the bed."

Zayn groaned, and no, it wasn't because Niall's dick is pressing his prostate. This should've been done earlier so he wouldn't have to be getting out of bed. He did anyway, pushing his ass out for Niall, resting his face in the soft duvet while his hand rested in front of his face.

"Tell me if it hurts in the bad way." Niall told him and pushed Zayn's right leg up the bed.

Niall carefully pushed in his semi-slicked dick without his condom on. Zayn didn't feel much of a difference until Niall pressed his hips right on his ass.

"Too deep?" Niall chuckled.

"Yeah, but—I like it there." Zayn felt his dick twitch pressed against the bed.

"Yeah you do." Niall pulled back; his pace is slow, each stroke was long and it felt better with his hand pushing Zayn's leg higher while his other hand gripped his shoulder.

Zayn doesn't remember when he stopped being so careful and started fucking his brains out. He didn't wanna come again and he was feeling his dick hardening under him. It was hard not to think about it, since he really does want it again. He's being pounded against the bed, no way for him to free himself. Sounds like torture but torture doesn't make him moan so loud into the blanket, holding Niall's leg against his so he'd thrust harder with their bodies closer. 

"Fuck, Zayn. I'm gonna fill you up." Niall growls breathlessly. Niall slammed his hips into Zayn, again and again.

Zayn laughed until he whimpered—or squeaked, he can barely tell himself. He just knew Niall came when this heat came shooting up his back, made his body tremble. He probably won't stop shaking tomorrow—he'd been so stiff this whole time. 

Niall continued to prod his dick inside. It only lasted for half a minute before he completely pulled himself away from Zayn.

"Are you showering here or...?" Zayn asked after he eventually peeled himself off the edge of the bed. He went straight for his water bottle, finished it down in a blink.

"I can share the space." Niall smirked and yawned with his hands in his hair.

"Not the issue." Zayn snorts quietly and heads to the bathroom. "You're in my house, remember?"

"Whatever." Niall followed behind.

Niall must have absolutely no fear to wanna hang around Rho so openly. But then again, Zayn's been saving him from Rho just by being beside him. 

After the shower, Niall didn't say much. Zayn walked him down to the door in silence; all except for Jesy and Alex's voice in the dining room. He could hear them agreeing on lyrics to use for Alex's song. The only thing he was right about was Jesy being a bigger help than Zayn could ever be to Alex.

Niall combed his fingers through his damp hair as he stood by the doorway. He borrowed a pair of briefs and a knitted pullover from Zayn's closet for today. There was something about this look that screamed prep. It must be the khaki shorts, the caramel coloured genie frame glasses, and all-white Stan Smiths. Niall's suddenly incorporating glasses into his look and it works very well. You'd think he'd be in Rho at first glance. "I'm not sure if you're free—"

"I'm free." Zayn assured him quickly with a smile.

"You wanna grab dinner?" Niall asked timidly. His expression softened at him as he started to turn his body left and right, resting on his left foot before his right. "It'll be on me."

"Yeah." Zayn didn't hesitate to accept the invite. He smiled from the corner of his mouth, his giddiness slowly growing for Niall. He walked up to him, timidly taking his hand in with his to hold. He almost walked right out the door with Niall if it wasn't for Alex who stopped him.

The first thing he did was look at Niall. He tried to read his face; all he could see from him was a soft expression.

"Thanks." Alex gave him a sincere smile—nothing suggestive, nothing that hinted sex. Just a smile. It's a new look for him. "Jesy really knows her stuff."

"I hope so." Zayn laughs just to fill the awkward silence. "I owe her big."

The corner of Alex's lips curl into a smile as his attention shifts all to Niall. "And Niall—you're a way better guy for him that I could've never ever been."

"Yeah, no offence—" Niall grimaces. "But thanks for screwing it up."

"My specialty." Alex laughs quietly. His gaze goes back to Zayn.

This was weird; the whole exchange between all of them made him feel surreal. To be able to look back at him without anything stirring in his chest or mind—it's new. After all these years where Zayn had always seen Alex as something bigger, something more—all Zayn could see was an acquaintance, never mind their past. His eyes didn't remind him of the cool forests of Oregon, the brown of his skin didn't remind him of the sun's kindness, and his hair—well, it was hair. This was Alex, and he had brown eyes, tan skin, and thick, black wavy hair. That's it. That's all. He hurt him and he knew he didn't need that.

"Bye, Alex." Zayn gives him a dry smirk before he can shut the door behind him.

*

It seemed like they were fine, but truth be told—there was still something they had to cover. The conversation on their way to O'Den's was dangerously too casual, too opened-ended where they both find themselves talking as if this is their first date. Holding hands came easy to him, talking to Niall suddenly has its affects on him after the past few weeks. They're not very good ones.

In a booth in O'Den's, Zayn decides it's not the best place to talk when he notices how full this place is. Too much people walking through the aisle, dishes clattering all over—distracting Zayn.  
  
"How have you been doing?" Niall looks up from his glass of water.  
  
Zayn shrugs. "I think I'm stressed. About everything."  
  
"How much are you doing?" Niall asks with a slight wince. That’s Niall for anyone; heavily concerned of Zayn more than he is of himself.  
  
"I practically ran the entire Olympic prep for Rho." Zayn shrugs. "I've got thingsto study for but we're doing this thing that I have to devote my time to?"  
  
"We have responsibilities, Zayn. That's why they voted for us to be VP. They know that we can handle problems that come in every way."  
  
"So what gives Harry the pass to not have to do work? He doesn't even hold our meetings."  
  
"Nothing. Maybe it sounds unfair, but you doing all the work in the house is what Rho needs. Not someone who plays President."  
  
"I just hope the house realizes that."  
  
"They do. They know who's right for them. It's not that hard to differentiate." Niall states the fact as if it’s that easy for Rho to understand. They all know who Rho is, and their capabilities when it comes to hurting people. They’re all guilty of it. The more they try not to, the more that they do.  
  
To let Niall know he gets it, he nods awkwardly and continuously. His throat tightens the longer they sit in silence. If somebody told Zayn this is how their 6 month was going to look like, he would’ve done anything to avoid fucking it up. Taking a sip of water would help him a lot. Any time now.

Aaanny time now…  
  
"I'm sorry.” Niall flicks the tip of his nose. The way he’s sitting back against his seat, avoiding eye contact, keeping his hands to himself—he really must be ridden with guilt. Whatever it is.  
  
"What for?"   
  
"Not trusting you." He sighs loudly. “And… Not letting you figure your problems out your way. I just don’t like him.”

“I don’t blame you.”

"If you still love him—"

"Niall. There was a time I looked at him and believed I did." Zayn's eyebrows knit together. He really wants Niall to know that. "And he'd say things that'd make me really believe in him. Until today."

"Until today?" Niall repeated. He didn't sound mad or disappointed.

"After today, he was just Alex to me. An acquaintance. Someone I knew from first year." Said Zayn."It wasn't a choice between you two. It was me realizing that I don't need to fix or impress him. He wasn't my responsibility, and I don't owe him anything. Not that I did to begin with. I was 3 years late realizing that."

"You aren't late." Niall smiled at him. "No one's got a stopwatch on you. This is all you, so take your time. But my apology still stands. I _am_ sorry, for everything."

"There's no need—"

"There is." Niall stated firmly. "If you get to explain yourself, then so can I." He paused. "You aren't late. I mean that. I pressured you for the past few weeks to get over Alex, but that wasn't fair. So I'm sorry that things got awkward and stressful."

Zayn sucked in a short breath, letting it out a quiet laugh. "I love you."

"Does that mean you accept my apology?" Once a smile to crack from Niall, Zayn finally lets out a breath between his lips; the corners of his lips curling into a smile as well.

"That's if you did anything wrong in the first place." Zayn scratches the bridge of his nose.

"Just take my apology." Niall tilts his head with a grimace.

"Alright." Zayn puffs quietly. 

*

There was already too much going on. There were the dramatics of the Olympic opening ceremony where they had Rho give up the trophy again where it's up for grabs in this year's Olympic games. There were too much people around, too overwhelming for him. The elections are on too and he has things to do for that—apparently it's come to a stop.  
  
He saw Niall in the crowd. Unusually tan and red, he must've been out running a lot. PCU uniforms were royal blue and it looked really well on him. He just can't find the words or the time to say how hot he looks right now. And he doesn't see any appropriate time to get closer. They caught each other's gaze through the hundreds of people here, and Niall would give him a goofy smile to make him laugh amidst speeches.  
  
UCLA was already pissing some of the universities but that's not entirely a new thing at all when some people from Kappa were pissing them off as well.  
  
On the first day, the first event was the canoe battle and race. Nothing more interesting than watching a bunch of people row and smack each other with padded oars so he went home. There were a fairly a lot of blue uniforms and people from other universities just scattered around Greek Row. It looks like a mess.

Day 5: now it’s Zayn’s turn to make a fool of himself. He doesn’t know why he chose swimming in the first place; Jake is one of the newest members this year from Rho, and is also an expert on watersports, no sexual innuendo intended. If there’s one thing he can’t shut up about, it’s that Jake was the captain of his waterpolo team in high school. God, waterpolo? Only people in Orangecounty do that kind of thing, not even talking about the show itself. If Zayn thought his neighbourhood Beverly Park was bad, what the hell is Newport?

Maybe he’s the fool who shouldn’t have listened to Harry’s watchdogs, Ant and Ben. They convinced him to sign up for the swimming event in the first place. And nobody mentioned the fact that it’s mock set up of Wipeout on water, but with teams of four. On Rho's team, there is Eve from Nu, Sahra from Theta, and motherfucker Adam from Kappa. Their goal is to run the lit brazier through the obstacle course without losing the flame and swim to the beach so they can light up the trojan bonfire to close off the Olympics.

It’s late March—it’s still cold and it doesn’t help that he’s a magnet for casualties. This is really on all him; he should’ve read what games were going to be happening this year, knowing fraternity and sororities from the West Coast planned all of it. PCU is just the host university. And the one thing they all have in common: they love alcohol and fun.

Thermal long sleeve shirt, thermal leggings, and swimming shorts; that is what success looks. And it’s called ‘a fool’. From the looks of it, he’s going to die after today’s event for sure. The lake was set with half a football field’s length with inflatable stairs, slides, pillars, trampolines—the works. He’s going to be going up against jocks, guys twice his size, and maybe twice the brain. That’s a big maybe. But then again, he’s stupid at sports.

“Welcome, to the last day of the Olympics, ladies and gents!” Louis announces from his remote boardwalk platform with Jade. He’s wearing orange Hawaiian floral shorts with PCU’s royal blue Olympic shirt with a white toga over the outfit. He’s a walking Greek who’s stuck in the 80s wearing some kind of neon night palette. At least Jade looks like a goddess in the toga.

“This is what you've been waiting for! As you know, the final event of every Olympic games that we've had are new. So new, our competitors didn't even know what they were doing until they got here! We call today’s event, ‘The Agua Wars!’” Louis nods firmly with his fist shaking up in the air with Jade trying to rile up the crowd. They cheer on from the beach, while the participants stood at the boardwalk, where they'll be running to the end of the dock. They'll be met with the inflatable stairs, inflatable floating balls and logs—along with many other obstacles and challenges, all on the lake.

“That’s creative!” Someone shouted from the crowd at the beach.

“Shut up! My legions, get this heckler out of my sight!” Louis commanded, and suddenly four men from Kappa picked the guy right out from his spot. Some people watched, some people were surprised. And some people like PCU students, have grown to ignore whatever Kappa does.

“We’ll be starting in five minutes, so make sure you get to the beach and prepare yourselves for one of the most treacherous games we have here, at our 50th annual Olympic games!” Jade announces and it's a short break for everyone. Music starts to play again like half time at a basketball game.

Zayn takes a few deep breaths, making sure his opponents see how focused he is on winning with the way his eyes are gazing through the obstacle course, thoroughly analyzing routes to take that won't slow him down or knock him down. That's what he's trying to convey at the most. He's sure they've already got plans in their heads; probably better than what he has now which is, 'don't fall in—it's cold; you'll drown and lose and that's not good'.

There's high stakes in this game—far more beneath the eyes of the audience that don't know Greek affairs. If anyone's really kept up, they would know Rho has been reigning champions for two Olympics now. And it would be more than great for Rho to take it home for their third time in this absurd game in aquatic sports. The chances of that happening are slimmer than his figure.

"Are you ready to lose, loser?" Adam lets out a loud huff. Great. They paired him with the biggest fucking asshole that Kappa has.

"We're practically on the same team." Zayn grimaces at the stairs. Bouncy. Airy. Better keep low. "And 'lose, loser?' You sound like you're in middle school. I've heard you shit talk better than that." He can't fail to remember that Christmas banquet.

"Do you even have any experience in swimming or sports? I remember Greek Bulldog last year—couldn't catch a football to save your life. Kappa and the sororities had to save your ass."

"No, but I'm sure you do. Heard you're exceptional in watersports." And this time, sexual innuendo intended.

"Don't fuck this up, Zayn. My expectations for this is already so low that I won't even be surprised if you do." Adam slaps his chest before Zayn scowls.

"Adam, stop!" Eve scoffs. "Can you two get along just for this one hour? Our reputation is on the line."

"Zayn's already walking on thin ice."

"I hope you get hypothermia." Looking from the corner of his eyes, the other university teams are already questioning whether PCU is functioning well or not. By the sound of it, no way.

"Come on, guys!" Sahra enthusiastically raises her voice. "We can totally win this. Don't be so rude, Adam. Zayn's got more class than you."

"Class. Sure." Adam grumbles before he isolates himself just before he’s given a brazier.

After the break, the teams were forming at the start line. There were 4 teams left qualified for this game out of 10. The elimination was steep. All that matters is that PCU is here—whether they win or not is all on Adam if he could shut up for a second.

The other teams look like they can do this in their sleep. One guy to the left, looks like the king of steroids and molly. His calves are triple Zayn's size and he's got a fixed frown on his face. If someone tried to make him smile, he'd probably look like that meme of that wrestler trying not to laugh. They had lanky people too, but Zayn knew not to underestimate them. He’s seen Wipeout before; they always win these things.

“Get ready!” Jade announces. “Because we’re going in three…! Two…! One!”

They scramble altogether, running to the end of the dock, brazier lit in Adam’s hand. The quick sprint of 16 people down on a two-metre-wide boardwalk cutting through the lake couldn’t have sounded any more disordered than it is. UCLA accidentally elbowed one of PortlandU’s members which couldn’t have been any funnier. No, wait—watching an endless group of people running up the inflatable floating stairs up, knees bent, arms wide open trying to balance themselves with their butts sticking out.

 "This is fucking impossible!" Someone growled.

When it was clear, Zayn carefully made his way up the stairs first. Following behind are Eve and Sahra, squealing in excitement. Adam passed the torch up to Sahra once they got up the stairs before coming up. He could already tell this was going to be a problem when he looked ahead.

The next thing they have to go through are cylindrical platforms. They're not too tall—in fact, they're lower than the stairs and as wide as two meters. That means the first step would be difficult for the torch bearer and no more than one person could go.

"Move, asshole!" This jock from UCLA came barreling through the stairs. Everyone got out of the way except Zayn who flew off the stairs and right into the water. It happened so fast, he somehow spiritually sympathized with the Spanish who participated in the Bull run.

"Fuckin-" Zayn huffs. He was furious, and not because _'My Songs Know What You Did in the Dark'_ was playing from the beach. It was increasing his adrenaline, and so was the hate he was suddenly harbouring for the ugly jock who looks like he uses laxatives for pranks and pays $30 for weed.

He swam to the end of the boardwalk where he watched people run by. He had to time when to pull himself up. Otherwise he'd get trampled and thrown right back in. He perched his elbows up just before the last guy came by. Quickly, he perched his leg up the edge of the boardwalk and rolled until his body was out of the water and didn't hesitate to run up the stairs unlike everyone else. He noticed a player from UCLA running up and didn't hesitate to pull him into the water.

He jumped off the stairs and landed ten feet below on his knees and hands right on the lower cylindrical platform. He could already see his teammates already halfway with Eve holding the lit torch.

Building momentum, he carefully hopped onto the next platform. And the next one, and the next, until he noticed the next platform had the UCLA jock staggering in his spot. He grimaced at the back of his head, leaped to the next platform and knocked him right off without even touching him.  _Good_. 

He caught up to his team who were looking at the logs leading to the next platform with a ten feet wall they needed to climb before plummeting back into the water to swim the torch to victory.

"How was the swim?" Adam cackles at him, slapping the back of his hand at his stomach.

"You tell me." Zayn shoved his shoulder into Adam, sending him into the water. He shouldn't have do that but seeing as though he doesn't give a fuck right now, he'll do what he wants.

"Zayn!" Sahra exclaims. "Why would you do that?"

"He'll be fine!" Zayn shouts back. "Start crossing the thing."

 Just before they could, the herd of PortlandU students rushed through, completely shoving Zayn's team in the water, along with the torch. Shit!

"It's good! It's good!" Eve shouts. She held the torch above her head still ablaze.

He heard a lot more splashes after; it was the PortlandU students who came down right after they did. They probably slipped off the log, thinking they can run through.

Zayn was hating every second of this stupid game. What he hated the most was having Adam on the same team.

After the logs, you'd think they'd be on their way to victory. It was just short swim and run to the beach with the torch, nothing more. Then all they had to do was burn the giant Trojan Horse. Seems complicated? No.

That's what Zayn thought.

It was how they lost.

Zayn was the last one to get through over the logs just before Adam which didn't impress him. If all four of them can go at the same time, Zayn would have gone. People had to go one by one, and it wasn't as if it was all four of Rho. Other university members trailed behind one another, trying to drag each other into the water.

He heard yelling and shouting as people fell into the lake, including Stanford's team who dropped their torch right into the water and got themselves disqualified. He got pulled in about four times before channeled all his annoyance into balancing and shoving everyone out of his way. Even the ones who looked innocent and scared—Zayn was cold and he wanted this game to be over.

By accident, he pushed Adam in the water. Luckily, he wasn't bearing the torch—just anger.

"You fucking idiot!" Adam exclaimed. "You're gonna be the reason why we lose."

"Maybe if you swam, instead of talking shit, we'd be moving on!" Zayn huffs at him. "After this is over, I'll talk to Louis about making arrangements for team exercises for you. You really need it."

"Just because you're screwing Niall, doesn't mean you can fix shit up for Kappa." Adam pulled himself up the platform. Then he starts to laugh. "You know what _you_ should do? Start screwing Harry again so you can fix Rho." 

"Adam!" Sahra scoffs. "What's wrong with you?"

"I'm not the only one who thinks this. The fraternities have been turning into shit since they started dating." Adam exasperates. "I'd rather keep the two houses fighting. At least I'd know where Niall's loyalty lies. From what I'm hearing, Zayn is Niall's bitch-boy now."

"You have no say whatsoever in Kappa. So feel free to talk as much as you want." Zayn shrugs. "I doubt anyone will listen to you."

Adam shakes his head. "Fuck it." For a second, Zayn believed he was done talking. Instead of talking, it was his fist punching right against his nose.

He didn't hold back on his strength. In fact, it was probably the worst thing Zayn has ever felt since his wisdom teeth extraction. He couldn't see anything for a few seconds—his vision went white. Even blinking a dozen times doesn't help his cause. His nose suddenly became warm and he knew it wasn't good.

"Adam, he's bleeding!" Sahra tried to tilt Zayn's head to see how bloody it was. His fingertips tapped over his upper lip; he couldn't see the blood but he knew it was a lot.

The game must've stopped because Zayn couldn't hear _Dumb for You_ by Hoodie Allen anymore, and he could hear voices that he didn't recognize, all wondering and asking what had happened. _Well, Adam can't handle banter and decided to punch his teammate in the face._

Eventually, someone first aid trained came over to the massive obstacle course they were on in the middle of the lake along with an official for the Olympic games. The certified first aid girl checked his nose out, had him sit where he was while people got themselves together. While that was happening, the official inquired people for information. It was quite simple— _Uh, that big guy punched his teammate in the face_ was what most contestants explained. And the information reached the beach where the verdict was settled.

Louis' caught off-guard with the news, and starts to stutter into the mic. "Uhh, um—due to internal conflict disrupting the games, Pacific Cyprus is disqualified from Agua Wars."

"You got us disqualified, you fuck ass!" Eve shoves Adam but he doesn't budge from his spot.

"He's good at talking shit, but he can't even throw a hit!" Adam exclaims.

"Maybe if you didn't get me in the nose!" Zayn tilts his head forward, pinching the tip of his nose. "If you really wanted a proper fight, you should've gone for a hook. At least that'd give me a fighting chance and you wouldn't be talking so big."

"Seriously! Shut the fuck up! Both of you!" Eve exclaims the same time blood dripped down Zayn's hands.

And that was that.

*

Watching the Trojan horse burn, Zayn sat away from the flames; far from people where he was too far away to notice or walk up to. He didn't feel like talking, nor watching people's pity poor out on him. It was just a broken nose.

It was a quick visit to the hospital after the game. A few ice packs during the week, some ibuprofen—he'll be good as new. Breathing hurts however, so he'll be breathing through his mouth. It's not something he likes. He got out in less than an hour and was able to make it in time for the bonfire. Good news, the bonfire has been burning since they finished the game so people were still around screaming, drinking, dancing, and socializing. Bad news, he missed the closing ceremony that announced who won. And because of him and Adam, UCLA won by 2 points. PCU being sober won't be a good thing for them.

"Hey." Niall greets him from behind as he hands Zayn a cider; dripping wet from the coolers that he took from. 

"Hi." Zayn tried to sound enthusiastically as Niall throws his arm around his shoulder.

"You did really nice out there." Niall takes a sip from his can. "I'm sorry about your nose though. Adam can be over the top."

"We're both even." Zayn shrugs. "It'll heal eventually."

"Since you're not wallowing about it, I do like it on you." Niall tilts his head as he looks at Zayn's face.

"I can't even fucking breathe." Zayn frowns at him.

"I'll be honest, it was the most entertaining thing to happen in a very long time. With a small cost." Niall smiles apologetically at him. "But, cheers to the Olympics, yeah?" Niall angles the can towards Zayn.

With a grin on his face, he knocks their drinks together. "Here's to the Olympics."

*

It seems like the most laborious part of the year has passed by them. To Zayn, it's only the elections that he has to worry about, along with exams which aren't happening for another 3 weeks until Zayn realized today's date just as he walked past a conversation about Spring Break plans. Shit.

Anyone would think that Spring Break for fraternities and sororities is going to Cancun and drinking themselves out of their kidney. Tijuana if someone really wants to die. But no—traditions are far more valuable to this university than any other ones Zayn has seen. As much as everyone has their disputes within their fraternity and/or sorority, it'll be ever tougher to work out when everyone's going camping.

It's not just any camp—it's Camp Koinonia; a transliterated form of the Greek word, κοινωνία—which means communion, joint participation, a collection, a contribution. It's a campground built in the early 1920s by Rho in an attempt to make a bond with all houses on campus. Even with Kappa, it'll be the one time in their lives that they've got intentions to actually want to be in a room together.

He comes home knowing there's a meeting about it. There's only two days until camp, where they'll be there for four days, having the time of their lives living in cabins, cooking their own food, making their own excursions and events. Harry will explain it—or try to at least. Zayn doesn't know what he can call it.

"Our meeting agenda today is, _Plans for Spring Break, and Other Stuff._ " Harry looks at Eggsy who's their social chair. Then he looks back at everyone else. "Unless you have a good excuse as to why you won't be taking part of Rho's Spring Break traditions, you'll be here."

"What?" It's mostly the pledges that ask with a grimace of confusion on their face.

"This is something we do every year with all the other houses." Ant explains with his arms crossed, not turning around to the pledges sitting at the back of their meeting.

"Which is?" Liam asks.

"Camp." Zayn fills in before Harry could.

"Thanks, vice president." He clenches his teeth at Zayn. Wow. You'd think having a bruised up nose would get you some pity points. Not with Harry. "Yes, it's camp. No, not with tents—actual cabins, washrooms, a mess hall, meeting place, so people who can't fend off for themselves don't have to worry. We'll drive there on school buses where we will be staying there for five days."

"Rho is luckily in charge of food. However, there's 120 of us, and throughout this week, there are 15 meals in total. We'll need someone working on the math, recipes for the meals, et cetra, et cetra."

"I, can work on it." John raises his hand hesitantly.

"Same." Zayn raised his hand. Leaving John to do all of that alone isn't right. Even if it's not his responsibility. It should be Ben.

"Great!" Harry slams the gavel on the podium. "You're all dismissed. You two, get me those papers by the end of this week."

That's it? Really? Somehow he expected more from this meeting. He shouldn't have.

"By the way, we're all in the same cabin." Harry smiles at them. "Prepare to sleep with one eye open."

**Author's Note:**

> comments, suggestions, kudos, and critiques (soft critique tho lol) are appreciated :)
> 
> talk to me: filipihoe.tumblr.com


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